#I need answers and simultaneously fear them

[a-demonic-duck-of-some-sort]

Hey Tumblr

I know you’re going through some things at the moment. Kinda on life support. Don’t have the time to quality control all your ads. I get it.

But what

The fuck

Is this?

This is not a real show. Nothing you can say to me can possibly convince me that this is a real show.

This is a rogue Cocomelon animator’s immature vent project AT BEST. No one would greenlight a show called Harry Bush. No one would WRITE a show called Harry Bush. No one would design a character called Harry Bush and inexplicably make him look like a four year old with a full beard and a farmer tan

Seriously, why does he have so few teeth? Why was this poster designed to look like a predatory kids YouTube channel, with the only major difference being a more aggressive shark? Why does he have a different number of fingers on each hand?

I don’t even think this is AI, I just think this is inexplicable. There is no world where this poster or title are attached to a real show, and if I’m wrong and Harry Bush is actually somehow beloved by the masses, then I’m jumping into the sea

[ihatethecrowdsyouknowthat]

legally single - spencer reid x fem!reader

on a walk of shame after a frankly devastating breakup, reader gets stopped by coworker spencer reid and he offers her a ride home

genre: hurt/comfort wc: 1.1k warnings: break up, reader wears makeup and heels, mention of vomit, unhealthy coping, protective spencer, anxiety a/n: based off the beginning of legally blonde!!! yes i wrote this instead of my requests

Heels click on the damp sidewalk in a way that feels mocking. Like a toddler, you sniffle with a humbling pout on your pink lips. You ignore the burning in your feet because you fear it’s your punishment for having so much faith in a person. It’s ridiculous, you know, but if it wasn’t for blind optimism and high expectations you probably wouldn’t be crying on the side of the road. But you don’t know if it’s fair to hate yourself for something that’s not actually your fault at all. You’re not the one who uttered the words I think we should break up. No, that was him.

Unsympathetic too.

Each syllable took an eternity to actually fucking leave his lips. Like it was all an elaborate plan to humiliate you publicly. Or at least that’s what it felt like.

It was a long relationship that ended neatly with one very simple sentence. It feels like a cosmic joke created only for the purpose of you becoming the butt of some–any–joke. Unfair.

Every car that drives by ignores your presence. To them you probably look like you’re taking a walk of shame. Maybe, in a way, you are. One car doesn’t ignore you, though. An old one that’s white or pale yellow. You barely finish the thought that it looks familiar before you see the figure behind the wheel.

He calls your name but you don’t respond. It was embarrassing enough when you were alone.

“Do you need a ride?” he asks.

You just keep on walking. His eyes flick down to your shoes, dampening against the wet concrete. You can’t even remember when it rained last. He doesn’t let you go, slowly driving alongside you until you answer.

An answer he’ll get.

“Go home, Spencer,” you grumble, squeezing your hands into fists at your sides.

Unfortunately, he knows you. “You’ll ruin your shoes.”

He’s right. But you’re not happy about it.

You get in the car, never once allowing your eyes to meet his purely for the very big reason that you’re humiliated. Because of how he does nothing but simply drives, you think he’s okay with the silence. Awkward silence is discussed so often that every time nobody speaks, you feel uncomfortable. This might be the first time you’ve been comfortable in the quiet.

Whatever that means.

The silence only lasts so long, however.

Spencer glances at the smeared makeup under your eyes. “You don't need to tell me what happened but… just know that I’m sure you're better than whoever you're crying over.”

Your eyes finally and cautiously meet his.

That boyish look that shows that he simultaneously wants to make you feel better and show he cares makes your heart sink. You hate yourself for feeling. For having a reaction to what’s surely a friendly gesture. Your stomach swirls with uncertainty.

You know he cares about you, that much is obvious just by how he acts around you. Almost like he has to physically restrain himself from stepping between you and something potentially dangerous. The small kink is that, for him, everything is a threat of danger.

His mind works in a way you’ll never understand. One simple scenario has hundreds of outcomes, each one of them assessed by him in detail. With that ability, he’s able to create alternate realities within his brain. Some of which are affected by his fears. If he can think it, it can happen. So he puts himself a few sacred steps in front of you. Every time.

Because, if anyone was getting hurt, he'd rather it be him. It’s simpler that way.

So, yes, he cares about you.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

It’s like the words register in him differently than they would to someone else. Because he looks at you like he wants to fix you so you never have to say thank you like that ever again.

You never thought you’d want a man to fix you.

The eyes you know so well seem to follow each microexpression on your face. While driving.

Somehow.

The familiar lead-up to your apartment building makes your stomach curdle. In a way that makes you feel like an expired bag of milk. You’re not sure why.

You think you might throw up.

That is, without company. 

Every time you look at the man to your left, you feel oddly at ease. Maybe he could be of service tonight. You mean, you haven’t been alone with a guy since you started dating your ex.

Ex.

It’s when he stops the car that you can’t hold it inside. The worst he can say is no.

“Spence… I really don’t want to be alone…,” you pause for a beat, looking down at your heels, “would you maybe want to come in?”

Your eyes anxiously survey his, searching for whatever it is that means he’ll say yes.

“Just for a minute?” you ask.

The gold in his irises is almost completely swallowed by his pupils, blown wide to accommodate the darkness. He considers it with a bitten bottom lip. His jaw stays stiff until he finally nods.

You try to hide the relief lacing your sigh and just get out of the car. After any emotional day, your advice is to simply go the fuck to sleep. Perhaps it's hypocritical of you to write that advice off as not relevant in this case. Perhaps you’re acting out because you think it’ll make everything go numb. It’s as if you have no control over your body because you know this is a bad idea. You know you shouldn’t be inviting your coworker up to your apartment when you’re in such a vulnerable state.

But you just don’t care.

When your feet hit the first step up, you can’t think of another way you’d be taking such a step. Having Spencer here feels like you have something tethering you to the outside. So you’re not just lonely in a place where you once were in what you thought was love.

That never meant Spencer belonged here, though.

His very presence makes you feel softer but it makes him feel indescribably lost. He wishes he could read the situation better or maybe even have the courage to ask you. His silhouette lingers in the open doorway like he knows he has a decision to make. A decision he would’ve made better any other time. 

But it’s after ten pm and he never said he was strong.

[widows-venom]

⊹₊⟡⋆ IT DOES MATTER

PART 1

dark!wanda maximoff x fem!reader

✮⋆˙summary

you wake up again, chained to your own bed. you are determined to figure out why this wasn’t your wanda. and wanda was determined to follow through with some plan of hers.

✮⋆˙trigger warnings

dark!wanda, smut, dubcon/noncon, oral (r receiving), strap on usage (r receiving), face slapping (r receiving), mention of possible character death (idrk)

✮⋆˙authors note

please excuse the somewhat bad grammar and switching tenses, i’m not a native speaker anddd yeah, no beta, we die like — our souls when we watch marvel

you‘re thankful that there’s no headache when you wake up, but that gratitude quickly vanished, making place for fear. where were you? and who the fuck is that wanda?

you start to look around and notice that you’re settled in the midst of a queen sized bed — like the one wanda used to sleep in. but she’d never bind you to it’s posts like this — wait, no she would have but not this tightly. and not with her magic, but her silk robes.

where the fuck are you even? you simultaneously think the bedroom is familiar and completely new to you. it faintly reminds you off wanda’s bedroom but then again, it feels completely off.

the energy of the room doesn’t carry its usual friendliness and warmth, the carefreeness and calmness, the comfort wanda’s room always used to bring to you.

it’s all gone, replaced by an eerie, suffocating energy. it feels as though someone had draped a blanket of darkness and cruelty over the once comforting area.

“don’t think so much, malysh, you know i like you pliant and quiet”, wanda’s voice rings out.

her voice is raspy, her sokovian accent more prominent than ever — more prominent than that of your wanda.

“there is no 'your' wanda”, wanda hisses and within the blink of an eye she’s on you, pressing you down on the mattress with the of her body.

her breath is cold and harsh against your cheek, her weight uncomfortable and constricting above you.

with your wanda it had always felt -

“don’t you dare continue to compare me with her!”, wanda screams and before you can even blink, her palm connects with your cheek.

as a startled scream leaves your lips, wanda harshly grabs your chin. her weird, callused black finger tips dig uncomfortably into your skin and you can practically feel the magic in them.

“you’re mine now”, wanda coldly states and brings your face closer to hers. her lips almost brush against yours. “there’s no need to think of that wretched, weak wanda you know”

wretched? weak?

as if you’re going to let someone — frankly, this was the exactly someone, but some other version of wanda — walk all over your wanda.

“what did you do to her?”, you spit out.

wanda huffed and rolled her eyes, grinding her teeth together. “that’s none of your business, malysh. i discarded her, like the useless little witch she was”, she snarked, an almost proud smile forming on her lips. “she couldn’t protect you, malysh, but i can.”

you scoffed, your throat closing up. discarded her? had she actually killed your wanda?

before you can even ask, wanda’s lips are on yours. harsh, unforgiving and — with a hint of love.

you tried to struggle against it, against her, her kiss. your lips not answering hers, merely letting her do as she pleased. but then, wanda pulls back. and there it was.

those hurt, green puppy eyes, staring at you accusingly. “kiss me back”, was it a demand? a plea, even? you didn’t know, but your heart stung.

how could you ever deny wanda? even if it wasn’t technically your wanda, those eyes hurt.

“please”, she whispers, her hands moving to your neck, gently touching your collarbones, tracing them.

now were you dumb, or just hopelessly in love with every variant of your girlfriend?

probably both.

because you lean up and kiss her, desperate to make those sad puppy eyes go away.

you kiss her, like you would have kissed her. slow, gentle and loving — and wanda lets you. lets you set the pace, doesn’t kiss your as harsh as before, but rather as soft as you are. as she would have.

you taste tears. maybe yours, maybe hers.

“let me make you feel good, malysh, please”, wanda whispered against your lips, gently connecting your foreheads.

did you have a choice? probably not.

“be gentle”, you rasped out, and wanda kissed your lips again, letting them linger.

with the twist of her wrist, she’s as naked as you are. a thick, veiny red strap-on settled between her legs. the sight alone making you clench your thighs together. you faintly recognise the toy, your own wanda had used it on you every now and then, but it looks — different. almost attached to wanda.

wanda smirked down at you, a devilish glint in her eyes, as she runs her hands down your thighs, gently spreading them apart.

“you’re so smart, malysh”, she praised gently and kissed your neck. “it’s different, attached to me. i can feel you”, she murmurs, her kisses traveling lower.

her gentleness makes you melt, a shuddering sigh leaving your lips.

“feel me?”, you whisper. “it’s - what, a magic cock?”, you laugh a little breathless at your own words.

wanda’s grin shuts you up. oh. it was a magic cock.

“just for you, malysh. as special as you are”, she murmurs, nipping at the underside of one of your breasts, as her hands on your thighs slide higher, massaging you gently.

“now relax, let me take care of you”, she coaxes, placing a kiss on your stomach, your hip.

“fuck”, you whispered, head falling back against the pillows. your fingers twitch, unable to move much do to the magical restraints.

“fuck indeed”, wanda mused, before nipping just above your shockingly dripping core. she moans at the sight of you, so wet and ready already.

“my, my, malysh”, she teases, green eyes flickering ip to yours as she darts her tongue out, flicking against your clit. a squeaky moan escapes you. “so nice and ready for me”

her tongue dips lower, spreading through your folds, humming at your taste. she manages to keep eye contact with you, while she pushes her tongue inside.

“god, fuck, wanda-“, you whimper out, hips bucking up, only to immediately be stopped by wanda’s hands pressing you down.

“don’t move, malysh, let me have you”, she whispers against your dripping core, the puff of air making you whine helplessly.

wanda’s tongue spreads your folds again, her nose brushing against your clit as she oh-so-gently eats you out. the occasional hum or moan of approval making you shudder from the vibration against your core.

fuck she was good. just like you had remembered your wanda being like.

wanda doesn’t speed up, her tongue keeping you in a nice, pleasurable state, while one of her fingers circles your entrance, slowly pushing in. “oh malysh, you take me so well, so good”, she murmurs.

you’re core greedily clenches around her. your breath comes in fast, needy little puffs and you try to move your hands again, struggling a little against the restraints — no use.

“wanda please”, you find yourself begging quickly. desperate for her, for her cock. the thought of her actually being able to feel you, is making you dizzy with need.

“sh, i got you, malysh, i got you”, wanda mumbles. she detaches her mouth from you, leaving you aching for more. your hips buck against her hands, but she pins you down mercilessly.

wanda moves her body over yours, looking at your scrunched up face with adoration as she lines herself up. “so pretty”, she mumbles, her eyes wandering down to your core as she shifts her hips, brushing the tip of her magical strap on against your clit. watching the red tip brush against you, watching you twitvh and whine.

“wanda!”, you cry out already, her hands immediately tighten on your hips, holding you down, preventing you from even starting to buck up into her.

“there you go”, she moans, pushing the strap on inside, steadily, slowly. brows creasing in pleasure, as she feels your velvety walls fluttering against the magical cock.

“so good for me, malysh, so good”, she whispers, a little breathless, but not coming close to your breathless gasps.

“so nice and pliant for me”, she experimentally rolls her hips, makinng the both of you moan out in unison.

“fuck wanda, please move, please”, you whimper, eyes fluttering close in pleasure.

rough, callused fingers trace your cheeks, reminding you once again that this wasn’t your wanda. but in this moment, you weren’t sure you cared.

“say you’re mine”, wanda rasps, pulling her hips back almost fully, leaving just the tip inside you. “say you belong to me, malysh”

her hands tightened on your face, squeezing your cheeks a little.

“i- shit, wanda i’m yours”, maybe you weren’t stupid, but just a needy slut:

wanda grins and slams her hips forward, moaning loud, as you cry out in pleasure.

“there you go, malysh, my pretty girl”, she moans, setting a steady, quick pace.

“fuck you take me so well, feel so good around me”, she praises, leaning down to kiss and nip at your neck as you struggle not to writhe too much under her.

“you were made for this, for me, my cock, baby”, wanda moans into the side of your neck, biting your skin and soothing it with a kiss.

“you’re mine, malysh, utterly mine”, she mumbles. “mine to take and use as i please”

she shifts a little, coming face to face with you. admiring your face, brows scrunched, lips parted and eyes shut in pleasure, for a few heartbeats.

“if you’re good, i might consider sharing you with your little weak witch”

[seresinhangmanjake]

Could I request Feyd and reader’s wedding from “his”? Or maybe how her life changes once she’s his wife and not his mistress? I lovelovelove all the prequels, but I’m so interested to see their future together!

Forever His

Feyd-Rautha x concubine!reader

Notes/Warnings: barely smut. discussions of babies. thank you for the request and for reading <3

Words: 1350

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag List

You’re his now. Completely. Entirely. 

Before, anyone could have attempted to touch you, talk to you, insult you—though unwise—and no one but Feyd would have blinked an eye. Neither would they have assumed that such disrespectful behavior toward you would result in their death. A concubine is meant to be touched, spoken to however one pleases, insulted if it’s what a man needs to relieve the stress and frustration from his body. With the exception of Leto Atredies, Feyd’s the only Lord you’ve heard of who has ever given a fuck about the concubine they keep while simultaneously demanding respect for them. And on his part to ensure that, Feyd put secret rules in place when it came to you that men did not often follow. 

Being so heartless by nature, no one would expect a Harkonnen to care about anyone other than themselves—it’s risky to hint that the cold-blooded are capable of running a little warmer than rumor suggests—and for Feyd to lay out his care for you to the masses would have undoubtedly led to your death, whether by the hands of enemies or the Baron himself. But that didn’t stop Feyd from enforcing his rules and the repercussions for breaking them.

Those rules led to the deaths of many, most dramatically of his brother and a Caladanian diplomat, and it’s a wonder Feyd was able to talk himself out of the responsibility for their lives when the Baron called for an explanation. But he did. Feyd kept you alive, untouched by others, unbothered by others, respected by others because you were always his. His, at first labeled so in one way, and now, labeled so in another—as a wife. 

His wife. A Lady once more—not of your home planet, but of Giedi Prime—and though your renewed status may not change the way a Harkonnen man needs to present himself to the universe, Feyd can now be who he wants to be without the Baron lifting an eyebrow. He doesn’t have to pretend not to care for you as deeply as he does, and neither do you have to fear the choices he was making for your sake. 

From the moment Feyd kissed you in front of those who declared the validity of Geidi Prime marriages, your worries were instructed to fall in line with the duties of a wife. But with Feyd—for Feyd—it’s easy. Be his woman; stand by his side; and bear him an heir. And those things, you can do. 

—

His fingers are digging into your hips, helping guide your movements as you grind and shift your hips. He never let you on top before, and he never answered you when you asked why, but you knew it was his method of protection. A psychological need that extended to the physicalities of sex. He had to be the looming one, the consuming one, the one who shielded the other from dangers that were not present in the confines of your room. But that changed as your title changed. You’re allowed to be freer now—uninhibited—and Feyd has been willing to teach you how.

His back teeth clench, jaw sharpening with his final grunt of pleasure. With his hand on your neck, he pulls you down, lips claiming yours as he spills inside of you for the third time in the night. 

Your chest rises and falls in sync with his as you come down from the high, and then he rolls you onto your back, remaining inside of you to keep his seed from leaving your body. “Do you think it worked this time?” you ask as you regain even breaths. 

“Doesn’t matter,” he says as he tries to do the same. “We aren’t going to stop until you’re pregnant with my heir. We aren’t going to stop even once you are.”

Your chuckle is cut short by another press of his lips. Then, there is a press on your jaw. Then another on your neck. Then that kiss turns into little bites that are sure to leave marks. It feels too good to stop him, though you probably should. One of the things that works against you as a wife that did not as a concubine is the marks he makes on your body that cannot be covered by clothing. Nibbles, scratches, bruises—all acceptable on the skin of a concubine. Not as much on the skin of a bride. But it’s a propriety that Feyd could not care less for. 

“Feyd…” The vibration from his hum tickles your throat. “I’ll get stares.” Glares, more like. 

He pulls back with a quirked brow. “Ladies from other Houses eye the marks I give you and suddenly you’re bothered? What for?” He hums again, low, deep. His voice matches. “They’re jealous their Lords don’t fuck them like I fuck you.”

You snicker. “Maybe.”

Not maybe, definitely. However, you know it extends past the attention those women do not receive from their men. The fact that you were a concubine at all raises their hackles. While the Emporer and Lords have their meetings, the Ladies sit aside, offering words when requested but otherwise remaining silent, and in that silence, they have much time to think and scrutinize and judge. 

They don’t care that you were a Lady of your own planet before Feyd; they care what Feyd made you and then remade you when he decided he loved you. And now, you remind them too much of their own circumstances: a wife competing with a concubine. Except you were the concubine and then the wife while they are the wives shadowed by concubine counterparts. You’re an image of what they will never have and what their husbands wish they could have with the women they’d prefer. 

“They’re never going to like you,” Feyd interrupts your thoughts when he sees you’re lost.

“I don’t need them to like me,” you tell him. You prefer the company of the other concubines anyway—those brought alongside the wives for their Lords. Despite the complexities of your past, you connect with them better. “But either way, you need to be more considerate.”

“No,” he counters, “I need to fuck and touch and kiss my new wife however I want, and she needs to condemn anyone who gives her trouble for it.” You mock a gasp of offense. “You expect me to hold myself back with you? You want me to restrain myself when I’m trying to put a baby inside of you?”

“You make it sound silly.”

“It is,” he says. “I don’t whine about the marks you make on me.”

“Because Lords marvel at badges of honor,” you tell him, rolling your eyes. 

Feyd’s chuckle is your favorite sound. You rarely heard it before your wedding—he was always too stressed over you, concerned about your well-being—but you became addicted the moment it hit your ears. 

You wince at the discomfort of him finally pulling out, and your body instinctively follows as if to keep him where he was. When he falls onto his back, he tucks you into his side. 

“What do you think it’ll be?” he suddenly asks you.

You’re momentarily thrown off until you realize where his mind has shifted. Snuggling against him, you say, “I don’t care. As long as it’s healthy.”

“It will be,” he says.

“And as long as we can keep it safe,” you add.

Feyd swallows. You know there’s a part of him that is aware the life you have is not the life you were meant to have; that this life is a product of your lack of safeguarding; that you were taken as a prize; that he took you. And no matter the joy you’ve expressed or your previous unwillingness to consider leaving him—not that he ever entertained returning you—trying to have a child has made it impossible for him to forget how you met. He struggles. Something in you appreciates that about him. It means you helped to change him for the better. It means when he becomes a father, he will approach it differently than his own parents once did. 

“We can,” he promises you. “And we will.”

[fluentmoviequoter]

I'm Closer

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!wife!reader

Summary: During a string of break-ins in your neighborhood, you have to stay home alone while Tim works a night shift. When the intruder gets close to you, you remember Tim is always closer.

Warnings: depictions of breaking and entering, anxiety/fear, vague threat, fluff and comfort

Word Count: 1.8k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Rules

When Tim returns home, you’re sitting in the corner of the couch with your knees pulled up towards your chest as you type on your phone. He sighs and locks the door behind him.

“Where?” he asks, moving to stand behind you before he lays his hands on your shoulders.

“Two streets over,” you answer. “The Clarksons.”

You click the power button and toss your phone aside before you stand on the couch. Tim’s hands fall to your hips as he tilts his head back to look at you.

“How many is that?” you ask softly.

“Fifteen,” he replies. “There was one yesterday afternoon, we were investigating it all morning. Seven detectives and not a single lead between them.”

Leaning forward, you place your hands on Tim’s shoulders. He lifts your hips and pulls you carefully over the back of the couch. Before your feet touch the ground, you move your arms around Tim’s shoulders and hug him tightly.

“What if we’re next?” you ask against his neck.

Tim doesn’t answer right away, opting to tighten his grip on you as he moves one hand to smooth over the back of your head. He understands your concern. You have both been on edge since the second reported robbery. Fifteen break-ins in your neighborhood in less than three weeks is more than enough cause for concern. Each report makes Tim more eager to get the thief in cuffs but simultaneously discourages him from leaving you home alone. You’ve been triple-checking locks even when he is home, so he can’t imagine the weight you’re carrying when he’s gone.

“I’ve been driving by every few hours,” Tim tells you. “And Wade has patrol officers all over this area. We’re going to catch him.”

You nod against Tim. You desperately want to believe him but refuse to let your guard down. Tim mumbles something against your hair, and you pull back just enough to tilt your chin up.

He sighs, then says, “I have to work the night shift tomorrow. If you want to go stay somewhere else, I get it.”

You shake your head and take Tim’s hand, leading him toward your bedroom. “There really haven’t been any leads? Not even what kind of house they’re targeting or anything?”

“Nothing,” Tim laments. “Whoever this is, they don’t seem to be picky.”

“Comforting.”

Tim chuckles at your tone, then wraps his arms around you again. You never feel safer than when you’re in Tim’s arms. Neither of you are the kind of person to run from a fight, so you will stay in your home tomorrow, alone, and trust Tim and his fellow officers to find the bad guy before anything else happens.

“I could ask Smitty to park his car in the driveway for his hourly naps, try to scare anyone off with the sight of a police car coming and going,” Tim suggests.

“That would work great until they see the donut-hungover cop in it,” you joke.

“Call me tomorrow night, okay? For anything.”

“I will,” you promise. “I love you, Tim.”

The following night, after you kiss Tim goodbye and promise again to call him if you need something and to check in often, you walk into the kitchen and begin cooking yourself dinner. You aren’t hungry, you're too concerned with checking each car that drives by the window and ensuring no one can see inside the house. You walk through the house and check the locks as your food cooks. Everything is fine, you remind yourself as you carry your food to the couch. You turn on the television, hoping it will serve as a welcome distraction until you’re ready for bed.

Tim looks away from the computer monitor before him to check his watch. You’re probably getting ready for bed, and your last update was only a few minutes ago when you said everything was fine and the closest neighbors were home from work.

“Grey,” he calls.

“Two patrol cars are circling now,” Wade answers without looking up from his folder. “Everything’s quiet.”

Tim nods to himself, then clicks his keyboard to resume the security camera footage. Lucy yawns beside him, and Tim resists asking Wade which officers are in your neighborhood. If something were to happen, you’d be more likely to call Tim than dispatch, and he’d like to know who is close.

“She’ll be fine,” Lucy assures him softly.

“She better be,” he responds before watching a man in a bright red tracksuit enter a gas station with a gun in his hand.

You enter the guest room across the hall from your master suite with your phone in your hand to ensure the windows are locked. The windows on this side of your house aren’t very easily accessible, but you check them regardless. In your pajamas and ready for bed, you tug on the window latch and nod when it doesn’t move. Raising your phone, you open your text thread with Tim and begin typing a message. You pause when something makes a scraping noise outside. It goes silent, and several seconds later, you resume typing.

Just before you hit send, a loud pop echoes through the hallway before the undeniable noise of a window sliding open reaches your ears. Two soft footsteps follow soon after, and you begin to panic. You look around for something to defend yourself with, then suddenly remember that Tim told you to take cover first and then defend yourself only if necessary in a situation like this.

The closet door is open, so you grab the nearest object before sliding onto the floor beneath the extra clothes. Carefully, quietly, you pull the door closer to the jamb, then sit back in the dark corner and call Tim.

Tim pauses the surveillance video, zooms in, and gets a clear image of the suspect’s driver’s license as he removes his wallet to pay for a Red Bull. He rolls his eyes at the criminal’s stupidity but mentally thanks him for saving Tim some time finding him. Tim’s phone rings, and Lucy jerks as if she had been asleep.

“Hello?” Tim asks, pushing away from the desk as he waits to hear your voice.

“Tim,” you whisper, clearly panicked.

He stands immediately and lowers his voice to ask, “What’s wrong?”

You take a shaky, shallow breath that tightens Tim’s chest before you say, “Someone’s in the house. I was checking the windows, and then there was a pop in out bedroom I think… Tim, I can hear their footsteps, please come home.”

Tim jumps over the desk he’d been seated at, ignores the calls of his coworkers, and runs through the station to get to his truck. He knows he should alert Grey, dispatch, or anybody, but his thoughts are on getting home and ensuring you’re safe.

“Talk to me,” Tim requests as he slams the door of his truck closed and starts the engine.

“Tim,” you whimper, clutching your phone as your hands shake. “I think they’re going down the hall.”

“I’m on my way,” he promises. The radio in his truck lights up, and he hopes someone saw something and the officers in your neighborhood are on their way.

You murmur something that Tim can’t decipher but remain silent when he asks you to repeat yourself. The truck’s transmission revs as he presses the accelerator to the floor, fighting to keep his mind away from the worst-case scenario. As he turns onto your street, setting a new record for how fast the commute has ever been driven, Tim slams the gearshift into park several houses down. He leaves the truck running with the door open as he runs down the street and unlocks a side entrance to enter.

“I’m here,” he whispers to you before entering the house. He puts his phone in his pocket and raises his gun as he moves carefully through the house. You’re hiding somewhere but thought the unwelcomed visitor was coming toward the main part of the house. A door clicks somewhere down the hall, and Tim abandons his goal of clearing the kitchen to find you.

In the guestroom closet, you hold your phone to your ear with one hand while pressing the other to your mouth to muffle your breathing. The door into the bedroom clicks as it is pushed open farther, and you push yourself against the wall behind you. Tim is in the house somewhere, but your mind is racing with panic and fear. You peek through the gap in the door and see a masked intruder moving carefully through the room. Suddenly, he turns toward the closet, and you close your eyes.

Tim looks into your bedroom, where the window latch has been blown off by a small explosive device, but sees no evidence of anyone currently inside. The door across the hall, however, stands wide open. With his gun ready, Tim crosses the hall and presses his back to the wall before stepping inside.

“LAPD, stop where you are,” he demands.

The masked man stops, halfway between Tim and the closet. Tim sees the closet door isn’t completely closed and wonders if that’s where you are. Sirens sound outside, and Tim takes another step into the room.

“Hands up,” he instructs. “Interlace your fingers and place them behind your head.”

“You’re too late,” the man taunts.

Tim ignores him, and how his stomach rolls at the idea that anything could have happened to you while his phone was in his pocket. “Kneel.” Once the man is on the ground, an officer announces his presence downstairs, and Tim shoves the man unceremoniously toward the hallway and yells his location and that there is one in custody.

Then, Tim abandons his duty to keep the suspect secure as he turns toward you. He opens the closet door carefully, then drops to his knees. When you see him, you lower your phone and reach for Tim. He takes your hands and pulls you closer, whispering promises that you’re safe and he will never put you in this position again.

“When I said to always have something to protect yourself, I meant something a bit more substantial than a bowl,” Tim says, reaching for the jewelry tray you grabbed before hiding.

“It’s heavy,” you defend weakly.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”

“You’re here now.”

Tim pulls you closer, blocking out the noise of the officers apprehending the intruder, and your adrenaline wears off as you realize you can feel safe at home again.

“How did you get here so fast?” you ask as Tim helps you stand.

“Don’t tell Wade but I broke a few laws.”

You laugh and then furrow your brows. “How did he get in?”

“Right,” Tim remembers. “We need a new window.”

“He was really close,” you murmur.

Tim gently holds your chin as he kisses your forehead. “I’m closer,” he vows before cupping your cheeks and kissing you.

[prettycopperpennies]

They React To You Voting X

GN! Reader Oneshots including

x Thanos/Choi Su Bong/Player 230, x Lee Myung-gi/Player 333, x Kang Dae-ho/Player 388

Description: After making an ally in the first game it is now time to vote, but how will your ally think of you voting X? (this can either be read as a stand alone oneshot or as a second part to this previous post).

Warnings: None

Thanos/Choi Su Bong/Player 230

As the significantly smaller group of people walked back to the room after the first game Thanos, seemingly officially an ally, stuck by your side. His lips moved silently as he rapped to himself, not noticing how shell shocked you were. As soon as you sat on one of the metal steps, you could feel your body fold into yourself. You could not believe what just happened out there.

“I think we were one of the first across,” Thanos bragged to you as he sat down next to you.

You didn’t answer, not really hearing him as he spoke to you. He noticed your wide eyes fixed on the ground in front of you with a far off look. He leaned over towards you, his shoulder bumping against yours.

“Hey, are you good?” he asked, dipping his head in an attempt to meet your eyes with his own.

His close proximity pulled you out of your own world, but it did nothing to ease the worries rushing through you. He couldn’t stop his expression from mirroring your own as your head turned towards him. He frowned when he realized how upset you were. 

His finger went to his cross as he said, “You know, if you’re nervous one of these could help yo-”

He was interrupted by pink guards entering the room and everyone gasping and ducking away from the armed triangle workers, you among them. Thanos leaned forward in interest, simultaneously blocking you from the eyeline of the guards as you shrunk back further in fear. They assured the players they weren’t here to “eliminate” anyone else at that moment, nor were they the ones collecting on everyone’s debt. Instead they were here to announce the results of the game.

Thanos’ eyes doubled in size as he watched the stacks of money drop into the piggy bank. You felt your stomach doing somersaults, not nearly as enraptured by the view as the lanky, purple-haired man beside you.

“See? Don’t stress. We didn’t do that game for nothing,” Thanos said in a futile attempt to comfort you.

“That’s not the problem, Thanos,” you said quietly.

He shook his head, not willing to understand what you were trying to get across.

“But I’m watching out for you,” he assured you, “So there is nothing to worry about. You don’t need to worry about them-”

He pointed a ringed finger towards the guards before continuing.

“Or any of them.”

He pointed towards the group of players looking up at the piggy bank.

“And now we don’t have to worry-”

His eyes drifted back up to the ceiling where the piles of cash were suspended.

“About money either.”

The guards started to speak, explaining a vote was going to be held between the players. They were offering a choice: stay or go. As the two of you stood up and waited for your number to be called you knew exactly what you wanted, and with a sinking feeling you knew what the player next to you wanted too.

“We should vote the same, yeah? Since we’re allies?” Thanos said, turning to you. Apparently, he was thinking the very same thing as you.

“Um,” you said, your shyness overpowering you.

You felt a blush creep up on your cheeks as he flung an arm around your shoulders and pulled you in a little.

“Vote O and I’ll tell you a secret,” he said with a smile, trying to tempt you over to his side.

“A secret?” you asked, doubting someone this outgoing and seemingly open really had that many secrets. Less than an hour ago he was openly taking drugs right in front of you.

“It’s a good one,” he whispered, ducking down close to you so you could hear him over the din of people moving around. His number was called and he gave your shoulder a squeeze before leaving you to vote O. He turned back, giving you a cocky wink, before joining the other O’s.

You felt your heart pound as your own number was called. You knew how Thanos wanted you to vote, and he wasn’t the only one. There were a lot of players voting O, but you hoped maybe the tides would turn. One game was enough for you.

Thanos gave a defeated huff as you voted X. He watched you walk to the other side of the room, waiting for you to glance over to him. But you avoided his eyes, instead watching the votes slowly grow on the board. He desperately tried to catch your gaze, wanting to talk to you. But unfortunately for him, you two had to keep to your sides as the vote crept on.

The vote was over and the O’s had won. You walked over to the bed you had woken up in earlier this day. You had a sinking feeling you would be stuck here longer than you thought, and unfortunately you had just gotten rid of your one ally. You were just laying down when someone spoke up in the bed next to you.

“So do you not care about any of us?” the player asked, glaring at you from the mattress they sat on.

“What?” you asked worriedly as you sat back up.

“Some of us have some serious debt, you know. And here all you X’s are,  not really caring what kind of world you are putting us back into if these games end and we don’t make enough money,” they snarled.

“No I- I didn’t mean to put anyone in danger. I just think place this isn’t safe either, and I don’t want anyone getting hu-”

“It gets a little hard and you just run away, is that it?” they asked.

“Back off,” a deep voice said, and soon Thanos was walking up the steps, getting between you and the player accusing you. They took in his tall stature and decided to listen, getting up with a scoff before walking away. Thanos watched with a glare as they retreated. As soon as they left he placed his hand on the top of the bed frame before leaning down to your eye level.

“They’re right, you know,” he told you, his signature cocky smirk absent from his face.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“The life waiting for me out there isn’t exactly a happy one,” he explained.

“We could die in here. Any life is better than none,” you said, desperately hoping your one ally could see your side.

He shook his head with a sigh before speaking up again, “Agree to disagree.”

“Is that your secret?” you asked, your voice quiet.

Thanos felt his heart thud as you looked at him with worry. Nobody cared about him quite like this before, and you were basically a stranger. He decided he couldn’t leave someone as sweet as you to the wolves, no matter how you voted.

“Nah,” he said, a small smirk turning a corner of his mouth.

You noticed that half smile, hoping against hope maybe the two of you could still stick together for the games even though you didn’t agree.

“So, what is your secret?” you asked.

 You absentmindedly leaned forward, your curiosity taking over. Thanos felt his heartbeat quicken once again as you shrunk the distance between the two of you. He wasn’t used to being so nervous around a girl like this. He found the nerves somehow bolstered his ego and he decided to mirror you, leaning towards you till the two of you were only inches apart. As he moved, you finally realized just how close the two of you had become. You blushed as his lips broke into a full smile.

“Don’t you wish you knew,” he said, then with a click of his tongue continued on, “Too bad you won’t hear it. At least this time.”

With that he reached a hand out, tapping a finger twice against the red patch on your jacket. Clearly, he was not above bribery.

Lee Myung-gi/Player 333

As everyone filtered back into the main room after the first game you finally realized just how exhausted all the stress had left you feeling. You were ready to lay down and just crash, but as you approached your bed you realized all your “neighbors” hadn’t made it through. You felt tears start to prick at your eyes as you looked at your singular state. 

Myung-gi hadn’t walked in with you, but he had kept an eye out for you since the first game ended. He watched you crawl into your bed, also noticing the emptiness of the other beds around you just as you had. He saw you suddenly ducking your head to your chest. He subconsciously leaned forward from where he sat, watching your hand occasionally wipe across your cheek. 

He sighed to himself, as if he should have expected this. It didn't help that even before the first game he had decided you were one of the more fragile players. 

You were cursing the lack of privacy in this place, trying to hide the tears slipping down your cheeks the best you could. Apparently, you weren’t doing a very good job of it because soon someone was standing beside your bed. You looked up, spotting Myung-gi looking down at you.

He felt a little twinge of worry as your red rimmed eyes looked back into his, “Are you okay, y/n?”

“Of course,” you said, hurriedly trying to wipe the tears that wouldn’t stop coming. 

Myung-gi glanced around the room, trying to gauge if anyone else was noticing your crying. He was a little paranoid that someone might think of you as vulnerable if they saw and would come after you in the next game (ignoring the fact it was the very reason he decided to offer himself as your ally). You noticed him looking around and did the same. You tried to quell the tears, but you just couldn't seem to calm down.

“I’m sorry, I just-”

“You don’t need to apologize,” he said. 

He offered his hand towards you. You took it, and he gently pulled you off the bed and onto the step beside it. He stepped in front of you, blocking you from the view of the rest of the room.

“Just take a beat,’ he suggested.

You nodded, taking a few deep breaths. You felt your nerves start to calm, although you weren’t sure it was the calm breathing. Your anxiety quieted as Myung-gi kept you away from prying eyes. 

After a few moments those damned tears finally stopped. Myung-gi sat down beside you, smiling to himself when he heard you try to steady your breath; it was still hitching in your throat every so often after all the crying.

“Sorry. It was all those empty beds, and then I started to feel all alone, and-”

As you tried to explain, your voice wavered. You were just about to start crying again when Myung-gi spoke up, “You know, there’s an empty space below my bunk.”

You gave him a hopeful look, not confident enough to invite yourself to take up the bed (even though it was clearly what he had been insinuating).

He waited a few moments for you to say something, but he realized after a bit you weren’t going to speak up, and so he continued, “It might be better for you to hang out there instead of by yourself here.”

“Thanks,” you said, feeling a flood of relief.

“We’re allies, we’ve got to stick together,” he said with a casual shrug, but he couldn’t stop his chest from puffing up a little when you gave him a smile.

A group of pink guards entered the room, putting an end to your conversation. Myung-gi stood up once again, keeping you behind him as the jumpsuited group approached people. Soon people were begging the guards to give them a chance to pay off their debts, getting in front of them on their knees.

 Your own anxiety took over, and you moved to join them. Begging for forgiveness seemed better to you than just waiting for them to end you instead. As soon as you stood up Myung-gi grabbed your wrist, stopping you.

“Hang on,” he said, his focus on the guards who seemed to be trying to talk over the crying players.

Soon they explained they were simply here to share the effects of the game, and to conduct a vote. You were watching the money fall into the piggy bank, but Myung-gi was thinking about the aforementioned vote. He knew as he watched those bills fill up the clear container it would not be enough.

You made a move to stand and join everyone else gathering to vote when Myung-gi took a knee in front of where you sat, stopping you from getting up just yet. He grabbed both your hands in his, keeping steady eye contact with you.

“How are you going to vote?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“What do you mean? Don’t you want to go home?” you asked, surprised he even needed to ask.

“Of course I do, but…” he said, trailing off as he tried to find a way to put it. He gave your hands a squeeze as he spoke up again, trying to convey how serious he was, “Listen, I know that looks like a lot of money, but when it’s divided among everyone it won’t amount to barely anything.”

“I don’t care,” you said, tears once again pricking at the corner of your eyes.

“We’ve got each other, right? With an ally we’ve got an advantage compared to everyone else. We can easily make it through one more game,” he said to you, trying to convince you. 

You nervously chewed the inside of your cheek, now feeling much more unsure of what you should do in this next moment. He noticed you starting to waver and spoke up one more time, pulling you in slightly as he did.

“I’ve got you. I promise,” he said, speaking much quieter as if what he said was only meant for you to hear, despite there not being anyone else by you.

“All players please come onto the floor,” a guard said from their spot in the front of the room, looking over in the direction of the two of you.

Myung-gi let go of your hands with a tense sigh before letting you start down the steps in front of him. As the two of you waited for your own numbers to be called his eyes continued to flick over to you, trying to read your expression.

You were called up first, and you couldn’t bear to look over at Myung-gi before walking down the path between the small groupings of O voters and X voters. Myung-gi felt his shoulders drop a little as the tally changed. You had voted X. Your own shoulders dropped just the same as his when just a few minutes later he voted O. You both somehow managed to disappoint the other.

As the voting concluded, you fell into a quiet despair. You couldn't believe the O’s had won. You walked dejectedly to your empty bunk, wanting to just sleep your sinking feeling off. You were stopped in your tracks by your previous ally.

“I thought you might change your mind,” Myung-gi admitted.

“I thought you’d change yours too,” you said. Once again, those stupid waterworks started up and a few tears leaked out of the corners of your eyes.

Myung-gi felt a wave of guilt as he watched you start to cry. He knew this time it was partly his fault, and he found himself hating being the reason you were upset. He had to stop himself from reaching out and wiping the tears off your cheek. Instead, he just stood in front of you, desperately trying to think of some way to make it all better.

“I just want to go home, Myung-gi,” you said, your voice cracking a little as you tried to keep your composure.

“I’ll make sure you get home,” he said without thinking, making promises he couldn't keep. Anything to get you to stop hurting.

“Then why did you vote X?” you asked helplessly.

“I told you, I can’t go just yet. That’s not enough,” he said, pointing up to the barely filled piggy bank.

“Fine,” you said with a sniff, side stepping around him.

He followed you like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs, wracked with guilt.

“It’s not like I want to stay here,” he said, trying to explain.

You stopped and turned on your heels, coming face to face with him. You fixed him with a glare, but with your tear stained cheeks and naturally soft demeanor you couldn’t quite pull off being intimidating.

“But apparently you don’t want to leave either,” you said.

As unintimidating as you were, Myung-gi still felt a wave of shame. He couldn’t bear to keep looking into your red-rimmed eyes and instead let you walk away. As you both went to your separate sides of the room, he couldn’t stop his gaze from drifting over to you.

You had laid down, pulling the covers over your head at a futile attempt of some privacy. Anxiety poked at him as you laid there, not even bothering to get up to eat. At lights out Myung-gi stayed up, his nerves not letting him sleep knowing you were by yourself, completely vulnerable. Instead, he stayed up all night, watching over you from across the room, making sure nothing happened to you. He meant what he said, he was getting you home.

Kang Dae-ho/Player 388

Dae-ho clearly wanted you as an ally, sticking beside you since the first game. The two of you were more than a little shocked with the events that had just played out. The two of you were sitting on one of the many steps among the bunk beds, trying to process everything. Dae-ho glanced over to you, noticing you subconsciously pulling at a loose thread on your sleeve. He reached out, his fingers just barely grazing across your hand.

The gesture managed to focus the anxious thoughts clouding your brain, and finally you stopped picking at the thread. You looked over to Dae-ho, who was giving you a comforting smile.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

You were silent for a moment, not sure how to answer that. You found yourself getting pulled back into your mind, terrifying images flashing through your brain. Dae-ho noticed your eyes start to glaze over. He shifted his foot, nudging at your own foot. You blinked, once again finding yourself having to be pulled out of your own thoughts.

“Sorry. I just… I don’t know. I guess I’m okay. Or maybe… Not?” you asked, trying so hard to find the words.

“Yeah,” he agreed with a solemn nod.

The two of you fell into another silence, unsure of what to say to each other. Dae-ho noticed Player 456 sitting and talking to another player. He sat up a little straighter, trying to get a better look.

“That’s the player who knew what was going to happen, right?” he asked, nodding with his head in the player’s direction.

“Yeah, I think so,” you said.

Dae-ho seemed lost in thought for a few moments before speaking up again.

“What if we join him and his friend?” he said, sounding a little excited at the prospect of growing your group of two.

You felt your nerves rise up at the suggestion. It wasn’t a bad idea. Actually, you knew it was a really good one. But you were never good at making friends. Your shy nature always seemed to ruin every social interaction you had ever tried for, not including the interaction between you and the man sitting next to you at that very moment (but that was only thanks to him). You thought of all the ways you could mess up when talking to possible new allies, fidgeting once again with the new string as you did.

Dae-ho watched you attentively, easily reading the stress in your expression. He moved a little closer, his shoulder gently bumping into yours. As soon as you turned towards him, he gave you a reassuring smile. You tried your best to smile back, but in truth you were worried about ruining his shot at getting more allies.

“Maybe, you should go by yourself,” you said.

As soon as he heard your suggestion his smile fell. You couldn’t stand to see him look so dejected, and you cast your eyes to the ground.

“Yeah, sure,” he said with a little nod. He moved back away from you, giving you space. He chastised himself in his head, thinking he must have clearly misread the situation.

“I will just mess it up for you,” you admitted.

Talking so frankly about your shortcomings left you feeling so embarrassed. You were glad you had already turned your head to keep your eyes facing the ground. That meant, at the very least, he couldn’t see the blush painting your cheeks. 

Dae-ho took a moment, letting your admission sink in. He started to laugh a little, in spite of himself. You looked up with confusion, and he cut his laughter short after seeing how red your cheeks were.

“Wait, oh, I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” he said, and without thinking he reached his hand out and brushed it across your flushed cheeks.

That gesture did calm your nerves a little, but did nothing to quell your blush.

“I just thought… I thought you were just trying to get rid of me,” he admitted with another laugh.

Your eyes widened as you spoke up, “No! I didn’t want to get rid of you! Honestly, I was giving you the choice to get rid of me, because I- Oh, god.”

You covered your face with your hands out of frustration with yourself.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m definitely not planning on taking you up on that offer,” he said.

“I’m just going to mess everything up for you, trust me,” you muttered through your fingers.

“No, you’re not,” he said with a light hearted scoff.

“No, really. You need allies, and I-”

“I’m not leaving you behind! Besides, I’m not sure how you think you come off, but you’re actually pretty,” he just barely stopped himself from saying cute and instead said, “uh, charming.”

“Really?” you said, finally removing your hands from your face.

His breath hitched in his throat as he looked into your eyes, your cheeks still a little pink as your embarrassment slowly eased up. He could swear kindness was literally radiating off of you. To him, you glowed.

He was barely able to find his voice, taken completely by both the beauty on the inside and out. He was only able to answer with a quiet, simple, “Yeah.”

“Thanks,” you said with a grateful smile, “That’s really sweet of you.”

Before either of you could say another word the pink guards filtered into the rooms. Dae-ho instinctively put his arm out across you, protecting you just like he had in that first game. But soon you both realized they weren’t here to hurt you. They were only here to announce the results of the first game. 

You both turned your heads upwards to watch the money fall into the empty piggy bank. You couldn’t keep watching the money fall, knowing exactly what it represented. It was stomach churning, so when the guards announced a vote you knew exactly what vote you were casting.

“A vote?” Dae-ho said, sounding as hopeful as you felt. You both were practically sprinting down to the floor, not able to get the vote started soon enough.

Dae-ho leaned over to you as everyone chattered, milling around as they discussed what they were going to vote, “Let’s go home.”

You both pressed X, and Dae-ho found you among the group after he voted. He stood beside you, smiling once again. But it was a little more nervous than before. You felt your own anxiety peaking as the tally ticked up and up. You held your breath, so nervous to admit the X’s may not win.

“Why are people voting O?” you asked, not comprehending why anyone wanted to stay.

“I don’t know, but it’ll be okay,” Dae-ho answered, trying his best to reassure you.

“You sure?” you asked, more than willing to believe him despite the very real dangers you and him were both stuck in.

“Absolutely,” he told you with a definitive nod.

You both turned back to watch the vote continue on. As another player voted O, your hand subconsciously shot out and grabbed Dae-ho’s. He immediately gave your hand a gentle squeeze, knowing just how you felt. He held your hand through the entire vote, occasionally rubbing his thumb in a comforting circle whenever another O vote was cast.

You were crestfallen when you lost the vote, not at all sure what to do. Dae-ho was about to say something when you spoke up first.

“We need to talk to those other players,” you said, trying to muster a determination you never had when making friends.

You were filled with nerves, not at all giving a vibe of confidence, but Dae-ho was still impressed with you. He simply nodded, and not wanting to throw you off, he silently followed as you headed towards Player 456’s corner. He couldn’t help but smile when he saw you square your shoulders as you got closer. Despite not being able to see your expression, he knew you were trying to keep up your momentary confidence.

He also followed you, although with some confusion, when you suddenly made a hard right turn a few steps away from Player 456 and his friend. Instead you quickly climbed up to the bunk bed above them.

You cast your eyes down a little as Dae-ho followed suit. You both ended up sitting on a high up bed, you with very hot cheeks and him patiently for you to explain what had happened.

“I chickened out,” you admitted.

“Yeah, a little bit,” he agreed. 

You looked up to see him grinning at you, and a wave of relief washed over you when you realized he wasn’t upset.

“It’s okay. I’ll talk to them,” he said with an untroubled shrug. Suddenly the guards were entering again, this time with food. Dae-ho’s eyebrows raised and he spoke again, “Right after lunch.”

[uramakimochi]

Hii, I know you're probably already full of asks, but could I just give you a silly little idea? It's just that I love your wolfstar's daughter fics, and I can't get the idea out of my head of Y/N having her first period at a very young age, so Remus and Sirius didn't even have time to think about how to prepare themselves, much less prepare her for when it happened. So, complete chaos, she's hysterical thinking she's going to die, Sirius is freaking out and trying to calm her and himself down simultaneously like "REMUS IT'S HAPPENING! Oh my God, everything's okay, EVERYTHING'S OKAY! Oh my God, my little girl is becoming a woman..." And they both start crying, while Remus just watches like 😮‍💨🤭

Sorry, I'm terrible with this kind of thing.

HII BABY I'M SORRY IF I'M SO FUCKING LATE WITH YOUR REQUEST BUT HEY, BETTER LATE THAN NEVER RIGHT?😅

HOPE YOU'RE GOING TO READ THIS AND I HOPE YOU LIKE IT🤍

FIRST PERIOD

Wolfstar x daughter!Reader

SUMMARY: You get your first period. (1.9k words)

WARNINGS: Fluff + a bit of a crack fic, Sirius being Sirius and Remus being the family's ancor. A lot of petnames because i don't like using Y/N. FEM!R.

English is not my first language so feel free to correct me.

It was a normal day like any other at the Lupin-Black house and Remus and Sirius were quietly chatting downstairs. When suddenly...

"AAAAAAAAAH!"

An icy scream rang throughout the house and the two parents froze in fright, looking at each other with wide eyes.

Sirius started to open the door, but it was locked.

"My baby!"

Sirius was the first of the two to move after saying those words and started running towards the stairs, followed soon after by his husband. The two of them went upstairs and noticed that your bedroom door was open and after making sure you weren't in there they headed towards the large bathroom that all three of you shared.

"Baby!" he exclaimed immediately, starting to bang on the door. "Is everything okay in there??"

Your parents felt a pang in their hearts when they heard the sound of your sobs echoing in the bathroom and they gave each other a frightened look. Then, after a few seconds you answered.

"N-No... I mean, i-i don't know..."

Remus stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on Sirius' shoulder to move him away from the door so he could take his place.

"Darling" he murmured carefully, trying not to let the fear he was feeling show. Sirius was already on the verge of panicking and you didn't need both of your parents to be scared and unable to help you. "Why don't you open the door? So we can help you"

"We heard you scream, honey" Sirius spoke up from behind him. "Please at least tell us you're fine, because your old man here is about to have a heart attack okay?? And yes i'm talking about me, not Remus"

There was silence for a few seconds and then the two men heard movement on the other side of the door, accompanied by the sound of your feet sliding along the floor.

"Yes i'm fine... I think..." you murmured uncertainly.

"You think??"

"It would be more helpful if you were a bit more specific sweetheart" Remus added confused.

"It's just that..." from inside the bathroom you bit your lower lip nervously, looking down at your pants. "I'm bleeding... A little..."

"You're bleed- And why didn't you say that sooner?!" Sirius snapped. "Are you hurt?? Do we have to take you to the hospital??"

Remus turned on the doorknob, trying to open it but failing. Now he too was slightly panicking.

"No wait!" you suddenly blurted and the two froze. "I swear i'm not hurt, i-it's just... You can't come in. Please"

"Why not??"

"Because... B-Because it's embarrassing..."

Remus turned to look at Sirius, but the other frowned and shook his head, having no idea what you were saying.

"My darling girl, we're your parents. There's nothing for you to be ashamed of with us, you know that" Remus continued sympathetically, trying to calm both you and himself. "But like your father already said we're all scared right now. And i don't want you to be in here alone suffering, whatever happened. So please open the door, so we can work this out like we always have, hm? I solemnly promise that everything is going to be okay love"

There was more silence for a couple of minutes, which was broken by the sound of Sirius' shoe tapping on the floor. Then finally, the lock that kept the bathroom door closed clicked and Sirius rushed in, followed by Remus, almost risking hitting your face with the door.

The two's eyes fell on your figure, standing in the middle of the bathroom with your hands clasped in front of you and your shoulders jolting from the sobs you were trying to hold back. But the most important detail that stood out to their eyes was the dark reddish stain that decorated your soft pajama pants, dirtying your groin area and which had also spread a little towards your thighs.

It didn't take Remus and Sirius long to put the situation together and they both let out a small sigh of relief (Sirius even placed a hand over his heart dramatically), as their shoulders slumped in relaxation.

Remus was the first to approach you, placing a hand on your wet cheek and giving you a comforting smile.

"Do you want to tell us what happened baby?" he asked softly.

You sniffled while he tried to wipe the tears off your cheek with his thumb.

"I-I was in my room on my bed w-when i felt that i had gotten wet. I thought i had kind of peed myself by accident, so i went to the bathroom, b-but when i pulled my pants down i saw all the blood"

Remus pouted a little, but before he could say anything to comfort you you continued.

"W-What's happening to me dad?" you asked, as your big eyes looked up at him fearfully, still full of tears to shed. "Am i dying??"

"Oh darlin-" he cooed but was abruptly interrupted.

"MY SWEET LITTLE GIRL! COME HERE LET ME HUG YOU!"

Remus was about to give you a hug, but before he could Sirius pushed past him so he could wrap his arms around you first, pulling you into a tight, comforting hug that you returned without hesitation, crying against him. Remus looked at his husband unimpressed, as due to his dramatics you still believed that what had happened to you was a serious tragedy.

"Can you believe it Rem? Our daughter just got her period!" Sirius whimpered as he rubbed his cheek against your head as your fearful expression slowly changed to one of confusion. "I thought it would come in a couple of years, you caught us completely off guard, you know?"

You looked back and forth from one father to the other, not understanding what they were talking about.

"Period? So this is normal?" you asked and Sirius tilted his head to press a kiss into your hair.

"Absolutely, my love"

"So i'm not dying?"

Both of your parents chuckled at your relieved expression and Remus shook his head with a smile, then took your hand and dragged you towards the toilet, making you sit on the closed seat.

"No honey you are not dying. And you will never die from this"

"Oh thank goodness..." you sighed, as the last tears came out of your eyes and you dried them with the sleeve of your pajamas.

Remus crouched down in front of you and took both of your hands, stroking the back of them with his long tapered fingers, while Sirius stood behind him looking at you, with crossed arms.

"The menstrual cycle is a process that happens in every woman and usually starts when girls are your age or a couple of years later and continues until you get a little older, when you're about 40 or 50. This process is what makes pregnancy possible in your body"

"Pregnancy?" you slowly asked, tilting your head.

"It's when you can be pregnant and have babies, babydoll" Sirius soflty replied and you looked at him in surprise.

"Don't worry" Remus continued, comforting you with a smile. "It doesn't mean you're pregnant right now. And you won't be. It just means your body is capable of hosting a baby from now on"

"Oh... Then why did the blood came out from... Down there?" you asked again, squeezing Remus' fingers in your hands, more embarrassed this time.

"It's part of the process" he replied understandingly. "It's something that happens inside you, in that part of the body specifically and unfortunately you can't stop it. But you can contain it, so you don't get your clothes dirty"

Then he turned to look at Sirius. "Sirius love, turn on the shower please. And then call Lily and ask her if she can come here and help"

He nodded without protesting, crossing the bathroom to head towards the shower cubicle and turn on the water, adjusting it to the right temperature.

"Why does Aunt Lily have to come here?" you asked confused again, alternating your gaze from one to the other.

Both Remus and Sirius gave you a sheepish smile.

"You see baby, this whole period thing is a topic on which women are much more informed than us men" said the latter, as he dried his hand in the towel after feeling the temperature of the shower. "Aunt Lily will tell you all about what to do when you have your period and how to avoid suffering from cramps"

"Cramps?" you looked at him suddenly scared. "Will it hurt?"

Remus shot Sirius a dirty look and the other muttered an "Oops", looking away. Remus looked back at you, passing his palms over your knees in gentle strokes.

"Periods are different for every woman. Some have stomach cramps, some have back or chest pain, some have severe headaches... But as i already told you, it's all part of the process, you don't have to be afraid. Lily will explain everything to you, okay darling?"

"Okay. Thanks Dad"

"You're welcome, my love" Remus leaned in to give you a kiss on the forehead and then stood up as you watched from below as he walked away towards the door.

"Take a shower while you wait for Lily, so you can get cleaned up" he said softly and you nodded. "I'll change your bed sheets if they're stained and leave a change of clean clothes on the bed for when you're done"

Remus walked out of the bathroom and Sirius smiled as he padded over to you to take his place.

"You know, this is an important step in your life, honey. It means you've become a woman" he said and you looked at him with wide eyes.

"A woman? But i'm only 12!"

Sirius chuckled, taking your hand and leading you off the toilet and towards the shower.

"You are growing up babydoll, soon you will enter the adult world" he said softly.

Then he raised his arms to hold you in another hug, into which you let yourself go with a sigh, collapsing against his front and resting your temple on his clothed chest. Following a moment of panic like the one of before, your father's cuddles were like a healing touch for your still overwhelmed mind.

"Oh i wish you would stay this small forever, but unfortunately we can't stop time" he said in a melancholic tone, soflty rocking your bodies side to side. "No matter how many years pass, you will always be my little girl. You know that, right?"

"Daaad" you called back with an amused smile, lifting your head to look at him. "You're being dramatic again"

"I know" Sirius smirked, knowing how you and Remus found his dramaqueen-like behaviour amusing. "But you love me for it, don't you?"

And you nodded frantically, tightening your grip around his body and rubbing your cheek affectionately against his shirt. He ran his ringed hand over your head, stroking you gently and then leaned down to give you a couple of kisses on your hair.

"Now clean yourself up. I'll let you know when Lily is here"

He broke away from you to go to the bathroom door and after tightening his hand on the handle, before he could leave he looked at you one last time with eyes full of affection.

"We love you sweetheart"

"Me too Daddy. Thank you, both of you"

Sirius gave you a smile before closing the door behind him and leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You were a woman now.

[n0rmal-cat]

Femboy moth x reader x thembo butterfly- date night

[if only]

Moth pulls up his pencil skirt looking at himself in the mirror.

“You told them this was a date right” he looked back at his partner who was putting their shoes on.

“Ah yeah, I sent them a text saying it was a very important date and that they shouldn’t be late when they come” they pull out their phone.

“Alright as long as you told them, by the way” he smirked “you’re wearing two different socks” he flicks their nose playfully.

“Dammit…” they start to untie them.

Reader waits anxiously in the corridor of the apartment complex, they dressed in the best formal clothes they coul, hair perfectly done. They knew if they didn’t they would be made fun of by the two, they didn’t want that.

They looked back at the text messages that was sent to them making sure they had the right room number. Pushing the button they heard a buzzing sound then the sound of the door opening.

They made their way to the elevator then headed up, once there they knocked on the door.

“Wow someone really dressed up didn’t they? Count me surprised I didn’t know you could clean up this good” moth had answered the door with a grin and an outward arm.

“Um…”they froze in fear, they slowly stretched out their own arm and shook hands. Making contact sent a shiver down reader’s spine, like grasping a peach shaped hand.

“Y-you look nice yourself” they tried to be polite.

He scoffed “ tch whatever…just get inside” he said with a bluish hue across his face.

Reader nodded and stepped inside their apartment, the room was dimly lit but still seeable.

They walk into a candle lite dinner very confused however. “Well go on, the middle seat is you” moth ushered them.

“Oh yes, of course” they pulled the chair out and sat down putting their bag at the side of their chair.

“We’re so glad you accepted our proposal, we thought for sure you would refuse” butterfly scooted closer to reader in their chair.

“Well…it’s not like I can refuse work, especially from my higher ups?” Reader offered a sideways smile.

“But I wasn’t really told what this was about, is it about funds for the company?” they asked

Moth went silent “say what now?”

“Haha you’re so funny, so so funny you know that” butterfly laughed it off like it was one big joke to them.

“Love…show me that text you sent reader”

“Ok!” They handed it over

‘You need to come over

Tomorrow it’s a very

Important date’

‘Yes of course’

He stared at it with a blank face, they took a deep breath in and let it out as they put their head down.

“Alright read it seems we made a mistake, it seems like all our funds are in order you may leave now” he smiled bringing his head back up.

“What?!” Both parties said simultaneously.

“But I only just got here?” They asked

“Babe what are you talking-“

“Just a prank” he stuck his tongue out.

Reader looked around the room baffled, all this for a prank? Butterfly didn’t even seem convinced did they really go to all this effort for less than an hour of their time?

“Um, alright moth…I guess I’ll just leave?” They got up out of their chair and made their way to the door. It was only after the door closed did moths face fall.

“Babe what was that? Why’d you tell them to leave?” They asked worried.

“They didn’t know it was a date” he sat back down with a sigh pouring themselves a glass of wine.

“But I told them it was a date, I made sure for you baby” they grabbed his hands softly.

“I know honey, but it was the apps fault not yours, we’ll just have to have a date by ourselves” he smiled.

“It was my fault wasn’t it? I’m sorry…”

“No, no it wasn’t your fault at all, now just sit down so we can eat” before they could, however a knock came from the door.

“I’ll be right back” they rushed to the door and opened it.

“Reader, why are you still here?” they asked, surprised.

“I left my bag here, I just came back to get it”

They looked back at the table and saw the aforementioned bag sitting on the side of the chair.

“Reader, before I give you your bag can I ask you a question?”

“Um sure?…if it will get my bag back”

“Will you go on a date with us”

“Huh?!” It finally clicked, the reason why they didn’t say what the meeting was about was because the very important date…was a romantic date…”

Their face became hot, “me?” They pointed at themselves

“Yes you”

“You?” They pointed at butterfly.

“Yes? Do you want to or not?…I promise not to call you an idiot” they blushed

All reader did was nod, “that’s great!” They took reader hand and brought them back to the table.

“Who the hell was- reader?! Why are you still here” butterfly sat reader back down.

“They agreed to go on a date with us isn’t that nice”

“A date, like a date, date?” Reader nodded silently.

“Like romantic?” Another nod

“Are you sure?”

“If you keep asking so many questions they might leave”

Surprisingly both were very silent the whole night, unlike butterfly who talked readers ear off the whole time.

The date was actually pretty good, not once did they insult reader and butterfly even said that they liked readers hair. It seems like the bullying was more of a school bully retrain, stupid and inefficient.

Reader didn’t know if they wanted to go back on another date with them but they would definitely keep it in mind when they saw the two again.

[owlithere]

I need an AU happening during the founding era where Tobirama and Izuna are doing suspicious things™, but like in Phineas and Ferb, every time someone wants to tell about it to Madara and Hashirama, the problem in question magically disappears or is dismissed by them as nonsense (an extra plus if Hashirama and Madara themselves cannot tell each other about their suspicions concerning the other one's brother)

something along the lines of:

Hashirama: Madara, why did you never tell me that Izuna is friends with the emperor! Madara: …, because they are not in a friendly relationship? Hashirama, frowns slightly: Then how does Izuna know that the Emperor has stomach problems after eating pork? Madara, after hesitation: He once mentioned that he gets along well with the palace medic…. Hashirama, satisfied enough with his explanation: Oh a medic! That's fortunate because I wanted to send him 15kg as a gift. Madara, in disbelief: You wanted to send 15kg of pork as a gift to the emperor! We would have come out as such cheapskates…. - - - Madara: I'm pretty sure your brother is trying to create a zombie. Hashirama, without a second thought: Impossible, the last time he did it was after the death of our last brother and he promised not to try to revive them again. Madara, not allowing himself to be knocked off track: But I saw him in the graveyard mumbling strange things…. Hashirama, smiling: Tobira’ said something earlier about expanding cemetery space and burial rights! You never told me that the Uchiha burn their dead! Madara: How was I supposed to tell you that when we were at war!

both chatter enough that they are unable to return to the original problem

random shinobi: Hashirama-sama, Madara-sama, it's Tobirama-sama and Izuna-sama again! Hashirama and Madara, simultaneously: Did something happened to them! Are they fighting again? Random shinobi, in fear: Not this time! But Tobirama-sama said they were going hunting together! Hashirama, happy: But that's good, they're finally starting to get along better! Madara, scoffing: Stop it, as much as it pains me to admit it they have been getting along for a while now - they're just strangely very expressive…. which is something I didn't expect from Tobiram exactly random shinobi, with a slight disbelief that their leaders still do not understand the relationship between their younger brothers: But the problem here is not that they do it as a pair! Just what they're doing together! The companion of a random shinobi, also a shinobi: They were talking about heading to confront Kyubi! Madara, scowling: I'm sure they just wanted to scare you because they knew you were eavesdropping! Izuna has been doing that since he was two! Hashirama, excited: Izuna too! Tobira as well! Hashirama, directing the words to their shinobi: Tobirama promised not to fight any of the tailed beasts. You have nothing to worry about! *changing the scene to Tobirama and Izuna standing in front of Kyubi* Tobirama and Izuna, at the same time: so we wanted to ask… Izuna, interrupting: because we have a bet! Tobirama, focused: Which came first the tailed beasts or the chakra? Kurama, wondering why these two shinobi latched onto him without a fight and are asking strange questions: ??? *Tobirama and Izuna had simply considered the chicken and egg problem and wanted to know the answer from a trusted source*

[d1dlez]

Polytrix Hot Take

Ok so , tbh, I far prefer huntrix as platonic soulmates rather than them being romanticaly involved , because that kind of unconditional love ? Is somthing we don’t cherish enough in our society today - because media will alway prefer romantic involvement over friendship - Hence why this movie is so great (for going against all that)

But before we get into platonic huntri/x some day, let’s actually consider this for a hot second. Let’s think about Polytrix (because i won’t lie, that shit got me in chokehold these days)

So let’s talk about it. Taking the canon universe, with everything that’s happened. The Saja Boys. All the deaths. All Rumi had to go throw and hide. The whole shabang

How would that first conversation happen ? How do you even tell your two best friends you're in love with them, romanticaly.

I'm guessing it would spring some weeks or months after the events of the movie. After everyone having to workout the angst from all the lying and hidding from Rumi's part , and all the rewiring Zoey and Mira have to do about their views on demons. And the trauma of losing all those fans, all those people. Let’s say they somehow get through that, which is no easy labor, Then what ?

Does it all start in that vulnerability ? Does it all begin because for the first time in years, all of them get to truely wholeheartedly be themselves ? Without shame , without fear of judgment. Their bond was strong , but it’s still going to take some getting used to that new layer of fucking rawness.

Learning to shed all those bad habits, all thoses doubts to figuratively (and quite litterly) finally strip naked in front of each other ?

Does it happen because one day Zoey hugs Mira for a little too long, and it somehow feels weird for the first time ? Not necessarily bad, though it’s kind of hard to tell.

Is it in the way Mira accidently brushes Rumi's hand on some shopping trip - And though it happens all the time because they always all fool around, somehow the touch feels suprinsingly unexpected ?

Or is it when Rumi leans a little closer to Zoey that night they watch a scary movie and though they’re all quite aquainted with touch, it somehow fells different, more private, this time.

Is it in the way they can all share a bathroom, now that Rumi isn’t scared of hiding her marks? And Mira will barge in, butt-naked without warning (Zoey’s used to it) as they all get showered down from the day - Though they go by steps because chances are, Rumi doesn’t even feel comfortable with the girls seing her body even just for a shower because of all those years of self-loathing. So Mira pretends to be loud and totally unmoved by her habits, but does actually really care and is careful as not to overwhelm Rumi.

Do they all fall in love simultaneously without knowing it ??? I feel like it would probably happen between Zoey and Mira first, knowing how much closer they got to be all those years Rumi stayed distant. I feel like Rumi would take sm more time to come to terms with the idea of even like one of her best friends, let alone THE TWO OF THEM.

And let’s not forget the context of South Koreen habits and culture. How well are they doing with self-internelized homo-phobia ? Because i bet Celine sure as shit won’t be the one to help them with that . (Part of me really hopes none of them would be homophobic because of internet and them being young right ?)

One of the girls would definitely go to Bobby for help. Heck , they’d probably all go in line without knowing it ! (He is babygirl please also protect this man, he would do anything for these girls, even relationship therapy)

Anyways, just some random thoughts from the top of my head. Now can somebody do me some 50K fics with multiple chapters of all this shit because I need answers and i am absolutely feral for them

[kaylovestwd]

The walking dead men react to the reader being injured

(Rick Grimes, Daryl Dixon, Negan Smith )

The air had been thick with unease all morning. Rick had felt it in his gut, a tight knot of anxiety that seemed to anticipate the inevitable horrors of their world. He'd voiced his concerns to you, his voice rough with the protectiveness that had become a constant undercurrent in their relationship. "Stay close today, (Y/N). Let the others handle the supply run. It's not worth the risk."

He'd always hated those supply runs. They were necessary, a grim dance with death for the sake of survival, but each time you ventured out, a piece of him went with you, held hostage by the unknown dangers lurking beyond their walls. Your stubbornness, your fierce independence, was a source of both admiration and endless worry for him.

You, of course, being who you are – resilient, determined, and perhaps a bit too headstrong – had brushed off his concerns with a confident smile and a reassuring, "I can handle myself, Rick. We need the supplies, and I'm not going to hide in a tower while everyone else risks their lives." He knew that look in your eyes, the unwavering resolve that mirrored his own, and it simultaneously filled him with pride and dread.

The warehouse was a tomb of forgotten goods, a macabre supermarket filled with the ghosts of a world that was. The team had split up, methodically clearing the aisles, the rhythmic thwack of walkers being silenced a constant backdrop to their scavenging. You were in the back, searching for medical supplies, when it happened.

A section of the floor, weakened by years of neglect and decay, gave way beneath your feet. The world turned upside down in a dizzying rush, and you plunged into the darkness below, the air knocked from your lungs. The pain was immediate, a sharp, searing agony that shot through your ankle.

The fall wasn't far, maybe ten feet, but it was enough. You landed awkwardly, your weight twisting your ankle at an unnatural angle. A strangled cry escaped your lips, lost in the cavernous space. You tried to stand, to assess the damage, but the white-hot pain radiating from your ankle forced you back down.

The silence that followed your fall was deafening, broken only by the distant moans of the undead. It was the silence that alerted Rick. He’d been further up ahead, but something in the air shifted in the moment you fell – the absence of your usual steady rhythm of movement, the shift of the wind, he couldn't really explained it. It was like a chord was struck between them, and now he felt the jarring off-key note as if his own leg had been broken.

He moved with a speed born of desperation, his heart hammering against his ribs. He vaulted over overturned shelves, ignoring the startled looks of the others, his focus solely on finding you. When he reached the back of the warehouse and saw the gaping hole in the floor, his blood ran cold.

"(Y/N)!" His voice was raw with fear, echoing through the warehouse. He peered into the darkness below, his eyes struggling to adjust. "Answer me!"

Your answering whimper was weak, barely audible, but it was enough. Relief washed over him in a dizzying wave, quickly followed by a surge of anger – anger at the world, at the walkers, at the carelessness of the warehouse owners, and yes, a little bit at you for not listening to him. He spotted you crumpled below, your face pale and streaked with dirt, and immediately began to figure out how to get you out.

He didn't hesitate. With practiced efficiency, he secured a rope to a sturdy beam and rappelled down into the hole. He landed beside you, his face etched with concern. "Don't try to move," he said, his voice gentler now, the anger momentarily forgotten. "Let me see."

The moment he touched your ankle, a fresh wave of pain washed over you. You gasped, clutching his hand tightly. "(Y/N), I know it hurts, but I need to check it," he said softly, his eyes filled with worry. He gently probed the injured area, his touch both firm and incredibly tender.

His face hardened. "It's a bad sprain, maybe a break. We need to get you back to camp."

Lifting you was a challenge, but Rick managed, cradling you carefully in his arms. The climb back up the rope was agonizingly slow, each movement sending jolts of pain through your body. But you held on, focusing on Rick's face, on the strength in his arms, on the love that shone in his eyes.

Back at camp, Rick was a whirlwind of activity. He barked orders, organizing a makeshift splint, gathering supplies, and ensuring you were as comfortable as possible. His usual gruff exterior softened around the edges, replaced by a tenderness that was reserved only for you.

He sat beside you, his hand gently stroking your hair as the camp doctor (or the closest thing they had) examined your ankle. The diagnosis was as he suspected: a broken bone and a very bad sprain. You were grounded for a while.

Once you were settled, Rick finally allowed himself to truly focus on you. He knelt beside your cot, his eyes searching your face. "Why didn't you listen to me?" he asked, his voice a low rumble. There was anger there, yes, but also a deep, palpable fear.

"I… I thought I could handle it," you mumbled, avoiding his gaze.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I know you can. You're the strongest person I know. But sometimes, even the strongest people need to be careful. You scared me, (Y/N)."

You reached out, taking his hand in yours. "I'm sorry, Rick. I didn't mean to."

He squeezed your hand tightly. "Just… promise me you'll be more careful. Promise me you'll listen to me, just this once."

"I promise," you whispered.

He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Good. Now, get some rest. I'm not leaving your side."

The next few days were a blur of pain, boredom, and Rick's unwavering attention. He brought you food, read to you from scavenged books, and sat with you for hours, just talking, or sometimes, just being.

He meticulously tended to your ankle, changing the bandages, ensuring it was properly supported, and offering endless words of encouragement. He was surprisingly gentle, his large hands moving with a delicate precision that belied his rugged exterior.

At night, he would lie beside you, holding you close, his body a warm and comforting presence against the chill of the night. He’d whisper assurances that you were safe, that he would always protect you. His presence was all you needed.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple, you looked at him, really looked at him, and saw the depth of his love for you. It was etched in the lines around his eyes, in the weariness that clung to his shoulders, and in the unwavering devotion that shone in his gaze.

"Thank you, Rick," you said softly. "For everything."

He smiled, a rare and precious thing. "Always, (Y/N). Always."

Though the injury was a setback, it also brought you and Rick closer. It was a reminder of the fragility of life, the importance of cherishing every moment, and the strength of the bond that held you together.

For Rick, it reinforced his need to protect you, to shield you from the horrors of the world, even though he knew it was an impossible task. But he would keep trying, every single day, because your safety, your happiness, was his greatest priority. And you, healed or injured, meant the world to him.

And maybe, just maybe, you learned a valuable lesson about listening to Rick... just a little bit. The injury mended, but the memory of his worry, his love, and his very brief anger would stay with you forever.

As the days turned into weeks, your ankle slowly healed. You returned to your duties, stronger and more determined than ever. But you never forgot the fear in Rick's eyes, the tightness of his grip, the depth of his love. And you promised yourself, and him, that you would be a little bit more careful... for him.

The air hung thick with the scent of woodsmoke and damp earth, a typical Tuesday at the Sanctuary. Daryl had warned you – his voice a low growl, eyes narrowed in that way that both intimidated everyone else and sent a shiver of something akin to excitement down your spine. "Leave that scavenging run to me and Rick. The woods ain't safe right now, not with those whispers movin' about."

You, of course, had smiled sweetly, kissed his cheek, and promised to be careful. Promises, it seemed, were easily broken when a nearby town was rumored to contain a stash of much-needed medical supplies. You knew the infirmary was running low, and the guilt gnawed at you when you saw the lines etched deeper around the doctor’s eyes.

Daryl knew you too well. He saw the glint of determination in your eyes, the subtle set of your jaw. He knew that "careful" in your vocabulary meant something entirely different than in his. It usually meant pushing yourself beyond the limits.

The sight of you being carried back to the Sanctuary, pale and bleeding, was like a punch to Daryl's gut. Negan's men had found you. One bullet straight to the shoulder. He felt the familiar, icy rage creep up his spine. He wanted to hunt them down, tear them apart, make them understand the cost of hurting what was his.

But his focus snapped back to you. Your face was pale, streaked with dirt and blood. Your breathing was shallow. The world narrowed to the rise and fall of your chest, the faint pulse at your throat.

He pushed his way through the small crowd that had gathered, his face a mask of fury that sent even the most hardened survivors stepping back. He didn't say a word, just knelt beside you, his large, calloused hand gently brushing a stray strand of hair from your forehead.

The Sanctuary's infirmary was a sterile, cold place, but with Daryl beside you, it felt like the safest place on earth. He watched the doctor work, his eyes never leaving your face. He didn't flinch when the bullet was removed, didn't avert his gaze when your breath hitched in pain.

His anger was a tangible thing, a storm brewing beneath the surface. It was directed at the Saviors who hurt you, at the world that had forced you into this brutal existence, and maybe, just maybe, a little bit at you for being so damn reckless.

Once the doctor was done, and you were resting, Daryl settled into the chair beside your bed. He ran a thumb lightly over your knuckles, his touch surprisingly gentle. "You're lucky," he murmured, his voice rough. "Could've been worse."

You stirred, your eyes fluttering open. The pain in your shoulder was a dull throb, but the sight of Daryl's face above you eased the discomfort. "Hey," you whispered, your voice raspy.

He didn't smile, but the lines around his eyes softened. "Hey yourself. What were you thinking?" The question wasn't accusatory, but laced with a raw, vulnerable concern.

"Needed those supplies," you mumbled, trying to sit up. Daryl gently pushed you back down.

"Don't you move," he ordered, but the edge was gone from his voice. "Damn supplies ain't worth your life."

He sat in silence for a long moment, his gaze intense. "You gotta stop," he said finally, his voice low and earnest. "Stop tryin' to carry the world on your shoulders. Let me help you."

You reached out, your fingers tangling with his. "I just wanted to do something good," you said, your voice barely audible.

"You do good every damn day," he said, his thumb stroking your hand. "Just stay put, let me take care of things sometimes."

As the days passed, Daryl became your shadow. He brought you food, changed your bandages, and sat beside you for hours, offering only brief, gruff comments, but his presence was a constant comfort.

He was fiercely protective, his eyes scanning every person who entered the infirmary. He made sure you had everything you needed, even things you didn't ask for – an extra blanket, a cup of herbal tea, a worn copy of a book he’d found somewhere.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple, you found him sitting by your window, staring out at the world. He looked weary, his shoulders slumped.

"Daryl?" you whispered.

He turned, his gaze softening as it met yours. He came to your bedside and sat down, his hand finding yours. "I hate seein' you hurt," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Scares me."

You squeezed his hand. "I know," you said softly. "I'm sorry."

He looked at you for a long moment, his eyes searching yours. Then, he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. It was a chaste, tender gesture, but it spoke volumes.

Your shoulder healed slowly, but with each passing day, your strength returned. And with it, the bond between you and Daryl deepened. The injury had been a harsh reminder of the dangers they faced, but it had also revealed the depth of their love and the strength of their connection.

You learned to listen to his warnings, to trust his judgment. He, in turn, learned to temper his protectiveness with understanding, to allow you to be the strong, independent woman he loved, even in the face of danger.

The scars, both physical and emotional, remained – a testament to the hardships they had endured. But they were also a symbol of their resilience, their ability to find love and hope in a world consumed by darkness. And in Daryl's eyes, you were more beautiful, more precious, than ever before. His gruff exterior hid a heart that beat only for you. You were his strength, his weakness, and the reason he kept fighting. And he would protect you, always, even from yourself.

The road ahead was uncertain, but as long as they had each other, they knew they could face anything. Their love was a beacon in the darkness, a promise of hope in a world that had long forgotten what it meant to be human. And it was a love that would endure, forged in the fires of survival, tempered by tenderness, and sealed with a kiss that spoke of forever.

The sight that greeted Negan when he burst through the door wasn't one he was prepared for. You, his everything, were slumped against the kitchen counter, a crimson stain blooming on your arm. The air hung thick with the metallic tang of blood, and a wave of nausea slammed into him. The world tilted on its axis.

It ignited instantly, a white-hot fury directed at everything and nothing. How dare you? How dare you be so reckless, so careless with yourself when he'd specifically warned you? He had told you not to go beyond the walls alone. Lucielle felt heavy in his hand, the leather digging into his palm as he fought the urge to slam it against something, anything. It was a primal rage, born of fear and helplessness. He felt betrayed by your actions, as if you didn't value his concern, his love. It was a harsh, ugly emotion, but it was there, undeniable.

The anger warred with a desperate need to assess the damage. His eyes darted over you, cataloging the severity of the wound. His breath hitched, and his heart hammered against his ribs like a trapped bird. He needed to know how bad it was, how close he came to losing you. The need to fix it, to make it better, surged through him, eclipsing the anger for a fleeting moment.

A growl rumbled in his chest, low and guttural. It wasn't directed at you, but at the world that had dared to harm you. Anyone who had laid a hand on you would face his wrath, a wrath fueled by a love so fierce it bordered on obsession. He was your protector, your shield, and the thought of failing in that role was unbearable.

He forced himself to breathe, to bank the flames of his anger before they consumed him. He couldn't afford to lash out, not now. You needed him to be strong, to be calm. He had to be the anchor in this storm, even if his own insides were churning. He unclenched his fists, forcing his muscles to relax, a visible effort that tightened the muscles in his jaw.

With agonizing slowness, he knelt before you, his large frame suddenly seeming impossibly gentle. His eyes, moments ago blazing with fury, softened with concern. He reached out, his calloused hand hovering over your injured arm, as if afraid to touch you, afraid of causing more pain. The transformation was startling, a testament to the depth of his love.

His voice, when it came, was raspy, laced with a mixture of anger and worry. "What the hell happened? I told you not to go out there alone!" The words were sharp, but the underlying tremor betrayed his fear. He couldn't help the rebuke, it was a reflex born of pure terror. He needed you to understand the risk you had taken, the pain you had inflicted on him by your recklessness.

Despite his anger, his actions were tender, careful. He retrieved a clean cloth and pressed it gently against the wound, his brow furrowed in concentration. He cleaned the blood away with painstaking precision, his touch surprisingly light. Each movement was deliberate, infused with a desperate need to heal you, to erase the damage.

"Who did this? What were you thinking? How could you be so careless?" The questions tumbled out, a jumbled mess of concern and frustration. He needed answers, not just to understand what happened, but to understand why. Why would you disregard his warnings? Why would you put yourself in danger?

As he worked, his voice dropped to a near whisper. "I was so scared. When I saw the blood… I thought… I thought I'd lost you." The vulnerability in his voice was rare, a glimpse behind the carefully constructed mask of bravado. It was a confession of his deepest fear, the fear of living without you.

Once the wound was cleaned and bandaged, his focus shifted entirely to your comfort. He eased you into a chair, his strong arms supporting your weight. He brought you water, stroking your hair as you drank. He wrapped you in a blanket, creating a cocoon of warmth and सुरक्षा.

With you nestled safely in his arms, the anger resurfaced, but this time it was cold and calculating. He leaned close, his breath warm against your ear. "Whoever did this… they'll pay. I promise you that." It was a vow, a promise etched in steel. No one harmed what was his and lived to tell the tale.

He stayed by your side, a silent guardian. He watched you sleep, his hand resting protectively on your arm. The lines of worry etched on his face slowly smoothed out as he saw you resting peacefully. He was still angry, still shaken, but above all, he was grateful. Grateful that you were alive, grateful that he could still hold you, still protect you.

The next morning, he was up before you, making breakfast. He brought you a plate piled high with your favorite foods, a silent offering of apology and affection. As you ate, he sat across from you, his gaze intense. "You scared me, darlin'," he said, his voice low and serious. "Don't ever do that again. I can't lose you." He reached across the table, taking your hand in his. His grip was firm, possessive. "Promise me."

Despite the anger, the fear, the recriminations, the incident only served to strengthen the bond between you and Negan. It was a reminder of the depth of his love, the fierceness of his protection, and the vulnerability that lay beneath his tough exterior. It was a testament to the fact that even in a world filled with danger and uncertainty, love could still flourish, fierce and unwavering. He would continue to watch over you, cherishing every moment, and reminding you, in his own unique and sometimes terrifying way, just how much you meant to him. Because, in the end, you were his world, and he would do anything to keep you safe.

[infanttoes]

Flip4Flip! 💥Katsuki & Izuku☘️ HCs

Sorry for my lack of posting. I don’t have an excuse tbh, I just didn’t feel like it :P

This duo as my apology. Idk how I haven’t done them yet, I just realized. They’re one of my faves🧍

☘️ : This has been established before, but Katsuki’s a toddler regressor (4-ish) while Izuku kinda slides around from toddler to preteen, nothing’s ever really stuck.

💥 : Katsuki refuses to ever admit he’s regressed. He’ll literally threaten to uppercut someone in the jaw at the mere suggestion, even though he’s simultaneously fantasizing about going to bed and watching All Might movies with a sippy cup full of orange juice. Izuku’s tactic is often to just subtly watch over him and do simple things like grabbing him snacks or changing the TV channel to cartoons until he stops trying to fight it.

☘️ : Izuku definitely picked up Katsuki’s swearing habit and it’s become a major battle. Katsuki would be making him lunch and accidentally drops food on the floor, followed by a hushed “shit.” But we all know nothing gets past Izuku. That word became his anthem for the next three hours.

💥 : You haven’t seen hyperactive ‘til you’ve seen a regressed Katsuki. Izuku takes him to the park and gives him activities to do regularly, but he never seems to run out of energy. He’s always on the go! This has resulted in very, very frequent hikes and rock climbing trips because that seems to be the only thing that tuckers this kid out.

☘️ : Izuku forces Katsuki to color with him. And gets offended that his drawings look better so he takes away his crayons. Sometimes he’ll shove his paper in the other’s face and make him guess what it is, but God forbid he gets it wrong (even though it’s usually All Might or Katsuki himself.)

💥 : Both have very distinct ways of comforting each other. Katsuki believes in the art of minimalism (he doesn’t know how to comfort someone.) He’ll usually sit with Izuku and rub his back idly until the tears die down. Izuku doesn’t mind since he doesn’t typically wanna talk about it anyway. On the other end of the spectrum, Izuku is like an anxious mom. He’ll destroy all 7 world wonders to satiate the beast we call Katsuki, and most of the time he just needs a nap.

☘️ : Katsuki calls Izuku mama or papa. It’s never consistent, just depends on the day honestly. At first, Izuku tried correcting mama but he gave up after a week of no results. Izuku only ever uses Kacchan, and Katsuki actually finds he’s more comfortable with that than anything else.

💥 : Although they’d both been regressors for a while, Izuku was the first one to make himself known by appearing in Katsuki’s doorway at one in the morning, trembling in fear because he thought the pile of clothes on his desk chair was a monster. Katsuki’s first time regressing around Izuku was after the war. They co-depended too hard and he accidentally revealed his true identity during a sleepover 😔

☘️ : Physical Touch & Acts of Service. They clash very often because Katsuki has very strict physical boundaries and Izuku feels guilty when people do things for him, but they make it work.

💥 : You best bet they still bicker and annoy each other, even when one is little. It’s just a bit different. Katsuki tries to purposefully break the rules and give Izuku an attitude just for the attention. He likes testing his patience. Izuku is the “why” type of kid. He’ll ask why a million times over, even if he already got or knows the answer to his question, just because he thinks it’s hilarious to see Katsuki try not to pop a vessel.

☘️ : They have a shared drawer full of All Might bandaids that they restock bi-monthly.

[animeyanderelover]

Hello, and I would like to mainly praise your writing. Hello, I love your stories so much, they are so addictive and fascinating. Your Yanderes are so well developed and intricate.

Character list to write about (Hashirama Senju, Mito Uzumaki, Madara Uchiha, and Tobirama Senju)

With a female reader who is absurdly powerful in all types of jutsu - ninjutsu, genjutsu, taijutsu, fūinjutsu, senjutsu, and shinjutsu, etc. The reader has Absolute Condition; *_https://powerlisting.fandom.com/wiki/Peak_Human_Condition/Absolute_*

Reader's story: https://docs.google.com/document/d/16fzdrI1h39lOXhqAfAbRr-4G1xQoK7TLCdPdkH2Cp1c/edit?usp=drivesdk

🎀♥️♥️♥️♥️

I couldn't open the google document so I couldn't include the post you had probably envisioned.

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional behavior, obsession, clinginess, controlling behavior, paranoia, isolation, death

Tags: @shumidehiro @swagenemyartisan @cachamata

S/o is absurdly powerful

Uchiha Madara

​🌑​Now, Madara isn't opposed at all to a woman who can stand up to him. It gets his blood boiling in all the right ways as he would enjoy himself someone with whom he can play fire with. There is a catch to it all though. He can respect power but only as long as the odds are at maximum even between the both of you. Yet one can only imagine that there is someone out there stronger than even him or his friend Hashirama. Obviously alliances are offered to you from everyone as your powers are desired from all. Madara answers with typical Uchiha violence known in the times of war as he understands what is at stake. In his mind perhaps it also makes the most sense for you to align yourself with his clan and eventually the Leaf Village after peace has been made between the Uchiha and the Senju. After all they are the strongest and for that have the most to offer to you. If he figures out that anyone else has made a similar offering to you he might just request a fight where your alliance is at stake. It is very much reminiscent of the way knights would battle for the hand of a princess and in some violent ways perhaps it is. If you are the price, he won't back down in either case.

🌑After having handled matters in a more civilised manner where he specifically followed Hashira's pleads to not start a war with any newly formed villages already and has silenced anyone who wanted your loyalty sworn to their village, you ultimately decide to join the Leaf Village. That's when another silent war breaks out though as now the Senju and Uchiha clan start their own battle of whom gets to wed you to one of their own. Here is where Madara gets possessive now, even when in company of his friend Hashirama who is considered as an option for you to marry. After all he is the one who fought of quite literally those who pursued you with similar goals. He spilled blood in your name whilst Hashirama didn't go to such grand measurements in favor of peaceful conversations. In Madara's eyes that is already proof enough that he is more suited as he could offer you the more intense and passionate love. He has made peace but he still has his pride and he would very much like for the Uchiha to be the ones that can boast about you being one of them. He doesn't leave that even up to discussion. He makes his point clear to Hashirama who backs off for him as a good friend.

🌑You probably end up being the pride of the clan yet simultaneously you end up being closely monitored by the Uchiha at the same time. They want the power but they also need the control over you to ensure that you stay an Uchiha, something you are bound to notice. That's where Madara stands up fiercely and defends you. He hates being chained down just as much and he has firsthand experience with the persistence of especially the elder warriors in his clan. Deep down he has considered some of their fears as well but he would rather express them in different matters which would only end alienating you from them. Matters have to be approached in a different manner as you aren't just simply an enemy anyone from his clan could just take on, you're too powerful for that. Even he would greatly struggle and he doesn't know if he would emerge victorious if he were to clash with you. At times it might silently torment him but it is impossible not to respect the sheer power that you possess. Nevertheless though, he is very much ready to show you off as he has every reason to be proud of the fact that you are his wife and that you will eventually be the one to carry his heir.

Senju Hashirama

🌳​Where everyone else would only approach with fear and caution, Hashirama approaches with amazement and genuine excitement. He's in pure awe when he finds out abour your limitless abilities. It's perhaps strange for you to meet someone like him as you are most likely used to people only desiring you as a weapon in times of war. Hashirama somehow senses instinctively that you are not a person to be scared of though hence his friendly introduction. That wariness though is something he immediately knows where to place though the moment it flickers across your face. Sometimes it is hard to forget with his enthusiastic and friendly attitude that Hashirama has been on battlefields since he was only a little child. Though he may not know your past yet he understands that you must be far too familiar with people wanting to use you to gain more influence and power. So he decides to not pressure nor threaten you even if his own clan calls him naive for it. He should push more and make you offers to convince you that his clan and eventually the village he builds is the best option but Hashirama refuses. He gives you a choice which you never had before and that is ultimately what makes you accept.

🌳The moment you do join, he starts being slightly overwhelming. He visits your house to inform himself how you are settling in, he inquires constantly how you are feeling and if there is anything he can do to help you be more comfortable. It starts out as very sincere actions born from his natural friendliness. It turns over time though in the smothering obsession you eventually get used to. Through it all though Hashirama always only wants the best for you even if he is being far more pushy than he probably has any right to be. He doesn't take any hits to his own ego when someone questions him if he believes that you might be even stronger than he is. Instead he talks much rather how amazing your abilities are and just what a kind heart you actually have despite a childhood that consisted only of being abused as a weapon and fighter on the battlefields. In his eyes you are a strong and beautiful woman and that even without all the powers that you hold. His clan heavily tries to push the marriage onto you, especially since Hashirama's spilling fondness is more than obvious. He shields you from that only to ask you the next day the same thing, only with less force and more sincerity.

🌳He doesn't let you fight though, all the more if you yourself don't wish to do so anymore. He doesn't care if others accuse you of being disloyal to the Leag Village and the Senju clan. He doesn't even care when his own younger brother scolds him harshly for his ridiculous need to shield you. You are the last person who would ever go down on the battlefield, not with the abilities that you have. But it isn't about the physical strength to Hashirama. He knows that you would always be the last person to still stand. It is your mental strength that he worries about and the reason why he never calls you into shinobi duties. You have spend your life fighting and killing, only being used as a weapon and he refuses to demand the same thing from you. Your powers can be used in other ways to help the village outside of spilling blood and if that should be your wish then he respects it. He has promised you a happy life where you would never have to turn into the version of yourself that only knew how to kill and not how to live. He'd rather go out and fight himself then ever order it from you. You have fought long enough already. Now you deserve a happy life and he will provide it for you.

Senju Tobirama

🌊You can't expect the same warm welcome that you would receive from someone like his older brother. Tobirama is the polar opposite of Hashirama and that for good reasons. Otherwise his brother with his far too big heart would probably let about anyone join the newly formed village. Tobirama on the other hand doesn't just allow you to be part of the village. He normally demands a thorough review on your past as well as what skills you would bring if you plan to be a shinobi. It's your sheer display of power that causes an immediate tumult though which he is forced to put on a leash before everyone loses their mind. Some people mutter that you are too powerful and that you could potentially overthrow everything that is currently being build. Most vote for you to join as the consequences qould be dire if they were to reject and you were to join another village. The stronger the shinobi in the Leaf Village, the easier other nations will bow their heads. They already have the Senju and the Uchiha with them, the two arguably most powerful clans. With you no one would ever dare to go against them. Tobirama understands both sides and that you most likely won't wait forever for them to argue it out.

🌊The benefit would be greater for you to become part of the village and so you are allowed to join. That doesn't mean by far though that Tobirama has let you off the hook already. He keeps surveillance on you. He doesn't trust you fully yet. Now, he is never one to just trust any stranger but it has to be said that your sheer power plays an additional part in it all. You aren't just someone that even someone like him could easily stop. If you turn out to be a traitor or if you have any malicious intentions at all, casualities would be immense. That is something Tobirama has to avoid if the worst case scenario should ever happen. So he has a team of only the best monitoring you all the time for any suspicious behavior. Eventually you admit to him one time that you find it sort of cute how little he trusts you due to him constantly spying on you. He takes quiet but deeply personal offense. Not because you found out and didn't tell him. More because he spots a gap in the plan he himself came up with to always keep an eye for you. Clearly his plan wasn't good enough if you still ended up noticing it. You only telling him much later is still the cherry on top because now he feels mocked.

🌊It's begrudging respect that eventually turns into an obsession. Your skills are to be feared but for someone like Tobirama who constantly tries to invent new techniques and jutsu, it is also unintentionally a gold mine he struck. It is very common at one point that both of you spend days together figuring out correct hand signs for a new jutsu and that you perform whilst he watches and scribbles everything down on scrolls for research. You become a research partner and he acknowledges that you help his research a lot. Discussions of marriage have always been present but he stands up eventually and announces that he is going to be the one who will marry you, shutting up the discussions of who of the two brothers would suit you better. It's only logical in his mind as he knows how to properly utilise your abilities whilst someone like Hashirama would most likely only end up coddling you. As someone who always has to consider the chances of risk though, Tobirama starts working on a sealing technique that can be used against you to weaken you if a day should come where it would ever be needed. Whether that is for the safety of the village or the safety of the marriage.

Uzumaki Mito

🦊​Mito is part of a powerful clan herself and happens to be the first jinchuriki for the nine-tailed fox. She too is a woman of immense power for that just like you are. Yet she too has to consider wariness when first presented with an outsider to her village. She is a woman loyal to her duties so your sudden appearance and the powers you bring have to be carefully observed before she can determine whether you are a threat or a potential ally. She exhibits still a quiet and composed appearance even then as she is neither overly friendly nor overly hostile. She is calm. She asks questions and she answers yours too. The moment it is determined that you hold no ill will and wish to join the village though, she sees no reason to reject. After all someone as powerful as you should be an ally and not an enemy and she warns those who still hesitate that consequences would be far worse if you were to join another village and they should start a war with you by their side. The Leaf Village has strong shinobi, some of the strongest even, yet if unnecessary blood can be kept from spilling she will support for you to become part of the village and join the ranks of a shinobi.

🦊She is a constant presence in your life, though not anywhere close to being as insistent as Hashirama would be. It is quite simple really. She spoke up for you so she naturally believes that it falls in her duty to ensure that you settle in well and that her trust in you doesn't end up being misplaced. She listend calmly when you have something to tell her and she offers advice and help in the ways that she can. She isn't one to coddle you either though. With powers comes responsibilities and whilst she doesn't necessarily believes that you have to fight other villages to prove your loyalty she is of the belief that you should use your skills in some ways to help the village thrive. Perhaps a bit of a unique view as most other people would send you out where currently conflict over borders and territories arise but she receives support from Hashirama in her opinion. The choice is ultimately left up to you but Mito imagines that with a past where others mostly desired to use you as their best weapon you would appreciate using your powers in non-violent ways and still help save lives. It's this demeanor that is neither too coddling nor too harsh that has you rely on her as much as you do.

🦊Duties have always come first even before her own feelings as long as it served a greater purpose and ensured peace. Mito has known for a while already that she would end up marrying Hashirama to strengthen the alliance between her clan and the Leaf Village. For the first time though her heart and her sense of responsibility don't align. She has gotten attached to you beyond what she should have allowed herself and she suffers in ways too controlled to let it show on the outside. Mito probably doesn't even let you in on the fact that she has caught feelings, not even if she were to notice that you have similar feelings for her. Her strength lies in being subtle but powerful though so she navigates wisely and never without cracking. She keeps you close by her side as she knows that people will mistake closeness for friendship between two women and not for intimacy between two people in love with each other. Eventually she might confide to Hashirama what is going on as she still respects him as a human being and her legal husband. If anyone understands then it would be him and Mito counts on that. Her duties tie her to the village and as long she stays, you stay too.

[rocketbirdie]

YOU. You are correct about Cloud Strife. Everything you say about him is CORRECT

Hi I'm going to use your ask as an opportunity to go on an unhinged tangent about him below the cut.

I believe that EVERYTHING about Cloud Strife as a character makes total sense once you realize: it's autism.

Here's a character whose entire arc revolves around the erosion of his identity and his desperate attempts to adhere to an ideal image, at the expense of his own wellbeing; and how self acceptance is the thing that brings him back from the edge of despair.

Youtube theorycrafters waste hours of their lives trying to piece together Cloud's psyche, when the answer is just... autism. It really is that simple. I will die on this goddamn hill.

In Trace of Two Pasts, we learn that even as a toddler, Cloud really was just... like that. Unemotive and awkward. And the entire lifestream sequence in the OG shows us a young Cloud who behaves in baffling ways. Tifa and her friends invited Cloud into their group, but he rejected their friendship while simultaneously harboring a seething jealousy. How the heck does that work, huh?

Viewing this through the Autism Lens™️, his approach make way more sense. Fearing his own inability to read and reciprocate their intentions, he pushes them away, and the resulting loneliness crushes him. He mistakes that loneliness for anger. He turns that anger outwards and gets into fights. Because the other kids don't understand him, Cloud sees them as stupid and immature. It's the perfect recipe for disastrous distrust. The tragic result is that, when Tifa gets into her accident, Cloud is immediately blamed by kids AND adults. He's seen as inherently dangerous and unpredictable, even though he did nothing wrong. It's like they were already looking for the perfect excuse to hate him.

The worst part is, because he struggles to articulate his own thoughts and feelings, he starts to just... accept what other people say about him. He's a pain in the ass. He's a selfish brat. He could try being a bit nicer. Any attempt that he makes to argue, backfires and proves their points even more. He's being childish. He needs to get his shit together. Nothing's ever good enough for him. He stops fighting it and lets people drag him around and violate his boundaries, because no matter how loud he yells or how intelligently he argues, nothing he says ever reaches their ears. He trims away more and more of himself to try and appease others and nurse the constant emotional pain. (And that's not even addressing the entire traumatic *waves hands* everything that he's gone through by the time he reaches Midgar! That would have to be its own tangent lol.)

It's hard to watch as a player; the secondhand embarrassment of Cloud's social blunders is immense. Some people don't like Cloud as a video game protagonist, which is perfectly valid. But a lot of times, they justify their opinion by perpetuating the same damaging language. He's an asshole, he's a weirdo, he hates people. The irony would be hilarious if it wasn't so frustrating. I know Cloud is just a fictional character, he doesn't need to be defended from harsh criticisms. But I can't help but wonder what these players think about the "weird people-hating assholes" that they meet in real life.

It also makes me wonder if they were even paying attention. I think the games make it pretty damn obvious what's going on. He's an asshole because other characters treat him like one before they even get to know him. He hates people because he doesn't understand them, and they don't even try to understand him. He's a weirdo because he has a strange way of showing how deeply he loves and cares, and he's afraid that his love will be misinterpreted like every other emotion he's ever dared to show.

The autism is everywhere. It permeates his entire being. It's in his silly responses when he takes things too literally. It's in his painfully practical way with words. It's in the stiff expressionless look and the flat tone of voice. It's in him constantly adjusting his gloves, shifting his weight, looking down at his feet. It's in his questionable idea of what you're supposed to do with your body at a yoga session. It's in the half a dozen flustered high fives, it's in the motion sickness. It's in the contagious eagerness with his special interests in SOLDIER and materia and chocobos.

It's in the moments where the facade crumbles and we get to see the real Cloud, the one that Aerith knew was in there— the one that Tifa finds in the lifestream— the one that Zack gave his life for— the Cloud that cherishes the whole world. He's got so much of everything inside of his heart, and he doesn't know how to get it out. You'd be a weird asshole about it, too.

[evilminji]

I Am? Still? Thinking?? Of My Hive Mind Crechelings Au? (Prev <-)

The Creepy Crechelings? My Fuuuuckin POSSESSED Lil Babies (absolutely affectionate and full of love)?

I CAN'T STOP, man. It's the SOFTEST and WARMEST Epilog? Just... fuck, I wanna cry. It's SO FULL OF LIGHT? So content and happy and "then... our Hero gets to REST. No more struggle. No more pain. Just golden sweetness and simple days."???

The Tragedy Of Darth Vader WAS, ultimately, utterly and completely, because Anakin Skywalker was a GOOD MAN.

Because the Dark took something GOOD and twisted it. Made it MONSTROUS. Killing his soul with ten thousand cuts of doubt and fear. Anger, arrogance, and unwarranted pride. He had COMPASSION. So much love in him he could barely stand to BREATHE.

The world BURNED for how great his Empathy, made the weight of all the universe's suffering, upon his shoulders.

He was GOOD. Could STILL be good. And? The Force DOES work in mysterious ways. It just needs... an in. Someone, ANYONE, to ask the right question. At ANY point. Because it CAN NOT push upon them the answers. Fix for them all life's woes. The Force is not a God... it simple IS. And though it wishes to help, loves them dearly, it can only OFFER what is ASKED for.

And, yes, there are loopholes. Visions and gifts it might give. Technicalities it might work off of. That gut feeling? Well... your INSTINCTS want you to survive. Surely THEY are asking? Are they not? "How do we survive?" They ask. Endlessly. So the Force may answer.

And SURELY, The Force knows, the you of 20 seconds from now, would ASK them to warn you not to eat that fruit. It is poison. That is definitely in line with what you would ask! It can see it. Because Time is simultaneous to the Force. Why, it can even use this to justify, too itself, the Visions! SOMEONE is asking! It can even tell you whom! And when!

It WON'T.

But it COULD.

Yet! Let us focus! Anikin Skywalker!

Do YOU remember how he was born? Oh, sure, we are all PASSINGLY familiar. Born to Shmi Skywalker. "No Father". Etc etc? BUT!!! Details MATTER! And in science? In HEALTH? "Spontaneous Baby" is NOT GOOD ENOUGH.

How. What, SPECIFICALLY, made UP the spontaneous baby? From WHERE? Was it air? Energy? A clone? A hypothetical child of Shmi and some long dead individual she could not possibly have met?

These are important questions! Specifically, important to understand WHAT ANIKIN'S SPECIES IS. Cause "humanoid" is NOT a species! A race! Stewjoni and Naboolians are subtly different! Yes, both human variants. But that's the THING, isn't it?

They. Are. VARIANTS.

As in DIFFERENT. Divergent from one another. Perhaps not A LOT, but enough that their unique medical needs might be significant! Different environmental strains, different diets, different evolutionary paths for thousands of years. In SOME cases? They might no longer be COMPATIBLE anymore! Or barely! A tiger and a cat are both feline, but you'd be blind to mistake them as the same thing.

Then we have Anikin.

Who is haaaaalf??? What exactly?

Well, "The Force" according to research. By means of Sith meddling. But! And for the purpose of this ramble??

He is birth was "a work of the midi-chlorians".

.......let that sink in for a second. The Force channeling, HIVE MINDED, symbiotic micro organisms inside Shmi? Were instructed or guided to? Just take energy? Food and DNA. And... 3D print a baby into existence. They did, obviously, it was easy. But CONSIDER WHAT THAT MEANS.

It MEANS?

Anikin is HALF MIDI-CHLORIAN.

(At least in this AU.)

It's WHY he is so, SO fuckin desperate to connect. So ungodly powerful. So destabilized by not having "attachments". His brain is structured by organisms and half IS, of a sort, the sort of organism that REQUIRES an interconnected system. To offload the massive amount of sensory input the Force gives him. To regulate Big Emotions. To form councils and crunch through problems.

To get those good, good Soul Hugs.

Anikin? Not doing so hot. He's been SURROUNDED by what FEELS like a hive? But they keep EXCLUDING him and he doesn't have the words to explain why that upset him. Why he wants to crawl inside their brains an just... just hang. Not touch anything! Just... just nap! Maybe get a hug? P... Please?

Why does EVERYONE HATE HIM?!

But they don't. They just have different boundaries. Are NOT Hive Minds. THEIR Midi-chlorians? Are not at such a high concentration that it affects their thought patterns.

Unlike? The Creepy Crechelings.

Who absolutely doooooo. THEY are still in the We/Us phase. Boundaries? What Boundaries? We're crawling through each other's brains and on the ceiling! Full of light, love, and horrifying prophecy! Eating sand! Many thoughts, head full! We can taste TIME!!! :D

And it takes a SPECIAL breed of Creche Master with VERY strong shields to interact with them. Mind tricks are both accidental and daily. Poker face of kindness is a must. Good emotional regulation. So when one sees Anikin losing his shit again?

They sigh. Put down their muffin. And go deal with it.

Probably not even awake.

They just feel *Overwhelming Power* and hear upset noises and go "Ah, starting early, today is." Then wander over. And effortlessly defuse the situation. Flop their Force presence on Anikin like a weighted blanket. It would be UNSPEAKABLY rude and invasive to most anyone else? But Obi-Wan just...? Watchs his ex-padawan go BONELESS against this Crech Master he's never met? Like :O

T-teach me. Please, for the love of the Force, teach me to do that.

Next thing you know? They are talking, Obi-Wan getting a crash course in Super Powerful Younglings™ that honestly he should have gotten YEARS ago, but was run too ragged to. And Anikin? Blissed out, high as a kite, at the bottom of a Youngling pile. Mmmmm, lumpy pillow. We gonna sit and sleep and climb all over you, Master Skywalker.

*adoring, emotionally gooey voice* Okay.

He volunteers. Fuck it, he practically LIVES out of that Creche. Padme! Padme, we're adopting. He wants to be a stay at home dad. Build droids. Everything is Beautiful and nothing hurts. *war is still happening* ah. Shit. Right. THAT™.

Okay! New plan. AFTER the war. He has discovered his calling. Is suddenly bonding with Jedi he's never even talked to before. Is that Plo Koon? Plo! PLO! Hey, thanks for lending me that youngling development module! You got any others you recommend?

Him and Obi-Wan? Suddenly getting along better then they have in YEARS. His Master seems genuinely THRILLED he has a clear goal he's working towards and is supporting him ten thousand percent. Openly bragging. Consulting with him. AND? Is so much more OPEN! That Creche Master really helped him Understand how Anikin's brain works!

Which? Leads to Anikin getting healthier. More and more stable. The babies fuckin sneaking aboard. His Men LOSING THEIR SHIT because WHY ARE THERE TUBIES, SIR?! Babies! Infants! Smol, itty bitty, BABY CHILDS!!!???

And? On one hand? He has never felt so clear head and stable as when they are with him. Interconnected. US and WE and THE HIVE. The Force is With Us and We are The Force.

Buuuuuut on the OTHER hand? He is an adult. He CAN seperate what HE wants from what is good for his lil baby friends. This isn't safe. They could get HURT. Die! It... honestly? It makes him think about his mom a lot. He thinks he finally GETS it. Hates that he does. Is in AWE of how strong she was. Hopes he can take the lessons she taught him and live up to them.

Because it's not about what HE wants. It's about what's best for these kids.

They have to go back.

.....except the man he THOUGHT was his friend? THOUGHT was a GOOD MAN? Won't let them LEAVE THE FRONT LINES. Won't even authorize an emergency shuttle. There are vulnerable children. On the FRONT LINES. And Shee-...no. Supreme Chancellor Palpatine, won't let them GET THEM TO SAFETY?

Is THIS what over a decade of friendship means to this man? Is THIS what his "sympathies" are truely WORTH? Empty words and no action? Saying what you want to hear then sitting in his fancy office while CHILDREN are shot at?

Anikin wants to put his fist through a durasteel WALL.

Through some careful maneuvering, some Ships on the way back are are able to pick up the VERY In Trouble kiddos. It'll be about five ship hops. But they'll get there. And in the mean time? The entire GAR now knows where the Chancellor's priorities lay.

But? What to do, what to do? The kiddos are GONE! Anikin's head is gonna start getting crowded. Fuzzy. Crushed up and too small! He literally, physically, NEEDS people. For his mental and ultimately physical health!

"Well... you DID say Midi-chlorians are in every living thing, didn't you? It's just that most Sentients don't have enough to reach the threshold of Force Sensitive. Right?" Says Anikin's medic.

Anikin raises a finger. Opens his mouth to respond.

Considers this genuinely.

Puts DOWN his finger and closes his mouth. Nods. Yes. Yes, they DO. Why? Where exactly are you going with this? Medic taps a message to the GAR in ship message board. Please. You know EXACTLY where he's going with this.

Yeah.

Yeah, Anikin does.

And the Vode? Gotta admit. Having their General curled up like a comm system in the back of their brains? Kiiiiinda weird at first. But he's not? Actually? Touching anything? It's kinda like having someone follow you around, hanging off your shoulders in a hug. Because they feel needy and desperately need the contact. Little awkward? Yeah.

But we move on.

And the General respects boundaries. Politely pulls back and out/away when they want "personal" time. Something he had practice doing cause he's in a relationship. And there are Thoughts and Feelings you DO NOT want to share with younglings. It apparently helped him learn to shield. Quickly. Very, VERY quickly.

They only laugh at him a little bit.

He imagines throwing pillow blocks at them.

But THEN? One of them gets a head wound. Nothing to terrible. But bad enough that the midi-chlorians flow up to the area, to help speed up and properly regulate the healing. Because their's have become more active. Not STRONGER mind you. Just... more ACTIVE.

And they can fucking FEEL their General mentally screech to a full stop. Perfectly, utterly, FURIOUSLY Blank. Like the dead silence before the blaster bolts start flying. Like just after the flash but before the blast hits. A terrible, TERRIBLE silence.

Something is Wrong.

"What Is That?"

What is... WHAT? Sir?

And then things move very, very quickly. All things possible, through the Force. A baby created. Chips UN-created. It really is? Just directing the Midi-chlorians all ready THERE to do what you want them too. Offering up some extra energy, if needed. A Leader to guide the hive.

One deep enough meditation, reaching though-out "HIS" sprawling body? Really, what is the difference between purging a chip from your thigh in THIS body? And being over there? Or over there? What are "walls" or "distance" or this silly concept of "other"?

We Are One With The Force, And The Force Is One With US.

He is every Vode on the Ship. He is Anikin Skywalker. He was a Slave. But now? NOW both he and they and US? Are FREE. He will suffer no slaves in his presence. No more chips or collars with bombs. Time to free the others. Free everyone. Demand ANSWERS.

And they do.

The epilog? Oh THAT I can not stop thinking of.

Padme in the senate. Fierce and accomplished. A storied carrier fighting for the people of the galaxy. Anikin a Creche Master for the POWERFUL kiddos. The strange ones who need someone sturdy.

Who can handle their Us/We phase with grace. Who learns and grows, honors and remembers Shmi Skywalker every time one of them one of them starts to pull away. Starts to develop boundaries. Barriers. Starts to want to be their OWN person. Has not just grown strong in shielding but old enough to develop a defined personality, seperate from their friends.

The twins growing up with a whole Creche of siblings. Because their parents LIVE at the temple. Their mother works at the senate! They wave bye-bye every morning. And spend the day with dad. Not separated, not quite living with them fully either. Not after infancy at least. But the Order is changing.

Vode everywhere. Kids born of Jedi. The Corps withdrawn back to the temple to help handle the influx. Lots of debates about Tradition and Change that Anikin care not a lick about. HE'S taking his Crechelings to the Naboolian Embassy's Spring Festival. Does everyone remember how to be polite? Say "hello"! *various smol children chorus Hello in Naboolian, badly but very earnestly*

Just? Field trips. Droids and Vode dropping by to say hello. Padme being the LION of the senate while her retired kindergarten tearcher equivalent, war hero husband cheers. Adorable but freaky children popping out of the vents. Anikin treating his tiny squad of Tiny Anti-christ Acting Babies as though this were TOTALLY NORMAL and just how children act.

SOFT AND FLUFFY EPILOG~☆

@legitimatesatanspawn @babbling-babull @hypewinter @hdgnj @spidori @tiredafel

[alexawynters]

Mommy Knows Best - w.m x r blurb

Summary: Wanda convincing R to let her to all the thinking for her

Warnings: Ehhh... allusions to manipulation, kidnapping, stalking.

A/N: So ahhh... I wrote this in 15 minutes while at work in a part of the office I very much didn't want to be in. This isn't connected to anything. I don't intend on expanding this bc I have no spoons and the plot bunnies won't settle on anything definitively. But if anybody wants to take a crack at it, pleeeeaaase do! Just like.. link me so I can read it because I am thirsty. Also all of this was typed up on my phone so sorry for any typos, or formatting issues. I left my laptop at home today like a dumbass..

Wanda's hand cradled your face with a gentle yet possessive grip. "I knew that you needed me the moment I laid eyes on you in that coffee shop."

Your eyes widened at the older woman's confession. Out of all the times you had met up with Wanda, it had never been at a coffee shop. Her implication that she had been watching you sent a bolt of fear down your spine.

"Such a sweet little thing, so easily flustered." She appraised you with a keen eye, searching for any hint that you might try to run. "You were just trying to substitute the milk in your coffee order, yet you couldn't even do that without nearly breaking out into tears. Poor thing. You just needed your Mommy to do all your difficult thinking for you, huh?"

The older woman's voice had taken on an almost saccharine quality, while simultaneously dripping with condescension. You couldn't have explained it if you tried, but something about her tone, her words, turned your head all fuzzy.

Alarm bells that should have been clanging loudly were but a distant detail in your peripheral, not worthy of your attention when the alternative was listening to Wanda's honeyed voice. You should be concerned. A normal person would be leaving this crazy woman as fast as their legs could carry them. Yet instead, you practically meted into Wanda's touch, almost craving it.

The witch gave a subtle smirk at the way your eyes glossed over when she talked down to you. This was going to be even easier than Wanda had thought. She might not even need to use her magic if you were already this responsive to her. Frankly, Wanda was delighted.

"Use your words, kotenok. I know you're just a dumb baby, and words are hard, but when Mommy asks you a question, I expect an answer."

Her grip turned firm, border lining on painful. Glassy eyes snapped open.

"Y-yes, Mommy. I just needed you to do all the thinking for me."

Your face flushed bright red as you spoke the words, but you couldn't bring yourself to take them back. Now that they had been released into the universe, the words rang true for you. They simply felt... right. Your trusting gaze met Wanda's domineering one, seeking any sign of her approval.

The older woman gave a salacious grin, very much reminiscent of a cat who caught the canary. "There's my good girl," she cooed, caressing the apple of your cheek with her thumb.

Lulled into a false sense of safety and security, you tilted your head. Leaning into her touch, you were practically simpering from her praise and touch. Why had you ever been concerned, you wondered? This was Wanda. She would always take care of you. She would never even dream of harming you. If only you knew the extent of the very real danger you were in, you might have tried to run. Not that you would have gotten far, but Wanda might have enjoyed the thrill of the chase.

Nevertheless, she had you right where she wanted you and why make it unpleasant when you were so... willing? The witch reveled in how pliant you were. Like putty in her hands, ready to be shaped and molded into the perfect plaything for her.

"Now kotenok," she said softly. "Why don't you go get changed into something comfortable and we can watch movies? I took the liberty of bringing over some of your clothes from your apartment as you won't be staying there anymore."

The former Avenger patted your cheek gently, sending you off on your way. It was only a few feet you had made before hesitating, turning to look at the older woman.

"Mommy...." You tried the title, and it rolled off your tongue surprisingly easily. "Why. won't I be staying at my apartment anymore? I'm still paying rent on it for another seven months." Uncertainty rolled off of you in waves.

Wanda bit the inside of her cheek, reigning her temper in. She needed to be understanding, but firm with you if she planned to get you completely under her thumb without scaring you off.

"You let Mommy worry about all of that. Those are big girl thoughts, and you wanted Mommy to do all the thinking for you, isn't that right?" Her voice was filled with exaggerated patience and condescension.

Part of you wanted to push the question. If you weren't going to be staying at your flat anymore then Wanda must mean for you to stay with her. Unfortunately, you couldn't afford rent in both places, so if you needed to sublet your flat, the sooner you knew for sure, the better. Not once did you question how, when, or why the redhead had picked up your clothes, being so focused about this rent situation.

Still, as you caught Wanda's steadily hardening gaze due to your lack of immediate cooperation, you could have sworn you almost saw a subtle flash of scarlet in her eyes. Opting not to upset the woman you were quickly falling for, you promptly turned on your heel, intent on doing as she had asked.

Unbeknownst to you, Wanda Maximoff was observing your trailing form with a razor-sharp gaze. She felt triumphant, everything was going according to plan, and you were honestly making it too easy on her. Soon you would belong to her, and by the time you realized, it would be too late.

A/N 2: What are we thinking? Bin it? Try to write it from the beginning? Or maybe keep going and only have the beginning appear in flashback format? I know I need to update Scarlet Whispers and I'm gonna, I swear! Just... effort. lol